Transcending Time
by Dhampir72
Summary: At the end of the final battle, Allen Walker was set in stone for all eternity. Modern day, his reincarnated lover awakens him, giving them the second chance they would have never had. Lavi/Allen. Chapter 14 FINALLY online!
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Transcending Time

**Summary**: At the end of the final battle, Allen Walker was set in stone for all eternity. Modern day, his reincarnated lover awakens him, giving them the second chance they would have never had. Lavi/Allen.

**Genre**: Romance

**Rating**: PG-13/R

**Content**: Language, mostly. Flashbacks of violence, perhaps some excessive angst, and (of course) boys doing the things that entertain the authoress' perverted mind.

**Author's Note**: Yes, I know I should be working on other things. But this was something that has been bothering me for months now. So I'm just going to write it. It won't be that long, I promise…

**pqpq**

"This is one of Vigee LeBrun's most important works. After being accepted to the Académie des Beaux-Arts in—" As the tour guide gestured to the marvelous oil painting on the wall, the class of art students listened with rapt attention while he explained the history of the piece in a rather drawling voice. A tall, redheaded boy tried to stifle his yawn, but failed, causing his professor to send a borderline murderous glare his way. Flinching away from the irate stare, he attempted to feign some pretense of interest, despite his mind wandering as the guide lectured on dates and trivial facts about the artist.

"Man, I'm so jonesing for a cigarette right now…" said the boy next to him with an irritated grumble. The first boy (who was trying to quell the urge to yawn again) looked over at him with steady green eyes.

"I thought you quit, Tyki," he said, keeping his voice low as they moved with the rest of their class to the next room.

"I _did_," Tyki replied, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans. He gave the first boy an apologetic smile. "But I still _want_ one, you know?"

"I don't really know, but I'll take your word for it," said the redhead, stopping behind the group when they paused before another artwork. Tyki rolled his eyes, pulling a lollipop out of his pocket to suck on as the tour guide droned on and on about some modern painter that no one had ever heard of.

"Hey, Lavi," Tyki said, nudging him to get his attention. When he'd gotten Lavi to look at him again, Tyki ran his hands through his curly black hair with a somewhat nervous gesture. "After this, wanna get something to eat? Maybe catch a movie?" Lavi blinked, following their class when they began moving again. It at least gave him a few seconds to think of a nice way to turn Tyki down.

"I'm sorry," Lavi began with, watching Tyki's expression fall slightly. He felt bad, as Lavi was a people-pleaser most of the time. "I-I can get something to eat, but I promised Yuu that we'd hang out tonight." Tyki's look darkened slightly at the mention of Lavi's ex-boyfriend.

"You guys broke up," Tyki said.

"Yes…" Lavi replied warily, as they walked through the hallway toward another room filled with sculpture pieces.

"Then why do you still hang out all the time?" Tyki asked, some anger coloring his tone.

"We're still friends," Lavi answered, keeping his gaze on the guide, as if he had become spectacularly interesting in the last few seconds. It was a weak defense, the redhead knew, but he wasn't interested in anyone. And that included Tyki, who unfortunately liked (and pursued) him a lot.

"You're just hoping he'll take you back," Tyki said, somewhat nastily. Lavi didn't deny it, his gaze dropping to the floor. As he stared at the doodles on the tips of his Converse, Lavi tried to ignore Tyki's glare and attempted to not think about the long-haired Japanese boy he still yearned for. He could still clearly remember the day they broke up, when Yuu had insisted he was straight and started dating their childhood friend, Lenalee Lee. Lavi, not wanting to let their friendship be erased, attempted to spend time with Yuu and Lenalee to show that there were no hard feelings. And even though there were moments where Lavi felt so envious of the girl, Yuu really did seem happier than when they were together, so he diplomatically stepped down to let the happy couple continue with their relationship. "H-Hey, I'm sorry." Lavi looked up when Tyki apologized, forgetting where he was for a moment and what had spurred that previous train of thought. But then he realized that they were in the art museum being bored to death and Tyki Mikk—the richest, most suave guy in their class—had just asked him out (again) only to be turned down (again) only to get angry (again) which lead to him apologizing (once again).

"It's my fault," Lavi replied, picking at the black polish on his fingernails. "I'm just not…" He couldn't muster up the word "interested" from his vast vocabulary. Because of that, Tyki must have gotten the wrong idea, because he touched Lavi's upper arm in a comforting sort of gesture.

"Ready? It's cool," Tyki said, smiling his winning smile. "I'll wait." Lavi felt his heart drop slightly, feeling as if it had turned to lead. He didn't want to date Tyki and it wasn't just because he was recovering from his ended relationship with Yuu Kanda; Lavi just didn't like Tyki that way, but could never find the words to tell him so.

"And this piece is the most fantastic in our collection," said the guide, giving Lavi a distraction from his thoughts. "It's been on tour after it was discovered last year in the south of France. We're dating the piece sometime in the late 19th century, when the mythical End of Days supposedly occurred." Lavi stood on his tiptoes to see the sculpture, but couldn't make out anything over the heads of the rest of the members of his class. "As you can see, the costume is very close to the 'uniform' that God's apostles wore in the epic poem. This sculpture, we believe, is supposed to depict the main character of the story, Allen Walker, who—in the final battle that concludes the story—weeps over the death of his friend and lover, whose name has been lost somewhere in history. This is considered one of the more beautiful sculptures of that century because of the attention to detail, especially in the expression. We are very fortunate to have it, so please feel free to look for as long as you'd like." As the students thinned out, some looked at the piece for a few seconds before wandering off to look at some of the other sculptures of that era. Because of this, Lavi was able to see the sculpture in all its glory without anyone standing in the way.

Upon laying eyes on it, Lavi felt something inside of him spark to life: a strong emotion he couldn't name as his feet brought him closer to the figures in the center of the room. The image was so striking he nearly forgot how to breathe and he stared with open wonderment at the main character. Allen Walker was on his knees, his head tilted downwards to look at the head resting on his lap. It was obviously another male, lying in a tattered uniform on the ground. His eye was closed in what appeared to be a tranquil sleep, even though his body suggested the death was anything but peaceful. The guide had been right when he said the expressions were so powerful, especially Allen's. From where he stood, Lavi could see the furrow to his brow as the boy stared at his lover, the tears forever etched with marble clarity upon his cheeks.

"Now that's a depressing sculpture," Tyki said, coming up behind him to lean on the satin rope that hung around the artwork. He heard the other boy biting on the lollipop irritably, probably still wanting his cigarette.

"It's beautiful," Lavi replied, his eyes never leaving the face of Allen Walker's.

"Beautiful, but depressing," Tyki stated with a sigh. "God, this is boring." Lavi was still so drawn to the sculpture that he didn't reply, drinking in every detail of the weeping stone before him without knowing _why_ he felt like crying himself. "So where do you wanna eat after this?"

"Anywhere you want," Lavi replied, not really paying much attention. He knew that he heard the sounds of the class beginning to leave, the guide's voice echoing off the high ceiling as he led them to another part of the museum on their tour.

"C'mon. Class is leaving," Tyki said, easing off the rope to follow the others students.

"I'll be there in a minute," Lavi answered, listening as Tyki's footsteps got further and further away. He was unable to move, noticing more and more of the sculpture as he looked at it: Allen's gentle, angelic hand pressed against his dead lover's cheek, a ring on his delicate finger that matched the one worn by the deceased boy resting in his lap. He felt his chest tighten at the image and he gripped the front of his shirt, not understanding why it _hurt_ so much.

Quiet settled over the room, the soft sunlight spilling in through the skylight above the beautiful figure made it appear like it was glowing. And Lavi didn't know why he felt so sad or why his heart felt like it was breaking, but it was that same compulsion that caused him to step over the rope and near the piece, his feet light on the marble floor as he approached it. Lavi knew it was wrong and that he should never _ever_ touch an artwork, no matter what, but his hand moved of its own accord and rested on top of Allen's. The stone was cold and a tear fell down Lavi's cheek unbidden.

"I'm sorry," Lavi said, his voice echoing in the expansive room. He startled himself, unsure of the reason behind everything he was doing. Unsure of why he felt the need to apologize to a statue that couldn't hear him. Unsure of why he felt such a strong emotion of affection and longing within his heart that he feared it might just shatter inside him. Lavi felt suddenly very stupid, jerking his hand away from the statue's so that he could jump over the rope again to follow his class on the tour. But he couldn't help looking back over his shoulder once more before continuing towards the door. He hadn't even taken two steps when there was a crack like thunder and a voice that let loose the most painful scream Lavi had ever heard.

"**RABI**!" The redhead turned around to face the source of the shrilly cry and he nearly fell to the ground in disbelief. The statue in the center of the room still remained with a dead, still body upon it. But the figure of Allen Walker _wasn't_ stone. He was _moving_ and _crying_, his very real arms around the marble boy, who continued to lay still with eternal death. "_RABI!"_ Another heart-wrenching cry made its way past Allen's throat as he cradled his lover against him, liquid tears streaming down his cheeks to fall upon the pale stone of the dead boy's lips. "Rabi…" The word—now Lavi recognized as a name—came with such sorrow from Allen's chest that the redhead trembled in profound sadness, his own breaths coming out as jerky and uneven as the silver-haired boy's before him.

Lavi had no idea what to do, as it wasn't everyday something like this happened. But Allen was crying something awful and as the redhead got closer, he could see dark red patches seeping through the strange black and white coat that he was wearing. Tears weren't the only thing that trickled down Allen's cheeks, but blood from a head wound that appeared quite serious.

"H-Hey," Lavi said, moving closer to the boy with slow, quiet steps, not wanting to frighten him further. "Y-You should probably get to a hospital." The boy didn't show any signs that he had heard what Lavi said, so he continued to near what had previously been a stone statue. "You're bleeding…let me help you, okay?"

"Leave me…alone…" said Allen, his voice raspy and choked with grief. Lavi watched as he stroked his lover's cheek and for a moment, he could have sworn he felt that gentle touch against his own skin.

"You're hurt," Lavi replied, moving closer still, until he was right in front of Allen. But the mourning boy didn't notice him, too preoccupied with the body on his lap. "You need to go to the hospital."

"It…doesn't matter…" Allen answered quietly, more of his tears falling on Rabi's stone forehead and cheeks. "I just want…to be with him…" Lavi stopped in his tracks when Allen said this, his eyes falling to the ground. Who was he to stand between them? "He…was everything…he…_died_ for me…" Allen wiped at his eyes, smearing blood and tears over his face. "I should be…" he continued, but stopped when he looked up to see Lavi standing there. The statue form of him didn't do Allen justice, Lavi decided, as the boy before him was much more beautiful than any piece of art man could produce. Even covered in blood and bruises with smeared tears across his dirty cheeks, Allen was so gorgeous that Lavi couldn't help his stare. Clear, gray-blue eyes gazed back at him, a few crystalline tears spilling from them, clinging to long lashes.

"Ra….bi…?" Allen asked, his eyes never leaving Lavi's face as he spoke the name of his deceased lover. Lavi's heart stopped and his throat turned dry. Did Allen truly think he was Rabi? Even though Lavi knew he wasn't, he felt a small part of him that urged him to reply in the positive: _Yes, Allen. Yes, it's me, and I love you, Allen. I love you so damn much._.. Lavi squashed this compulsion, gathering his voice to answer with the truth, no matter how much he knew it was going to hurt to see Allen's disappointed face. But before Lavi could say this, Allen had slid off the dais and begun to walk with unsteady, bleeding legs toward him. "Rabi…?" he asked again, looking at the stone form of his lover before turning his stare back to Lavi with a hopeful expression. His injured legs took him no further than a few steps before giving way, Lavi lurching forward instinctively to support him before Allen could hit the floor. "Rabi…" Allen sighed against Lavi's chest, sounding so relieved that the redhead couldn't say anything at all. And even if he wanted to, Allen went rather limp in his arms as he slipped into unconsciousness, leaving Lavi with too many questions and no idea what to do next.

**pqpq**

You really have no idea how happy this story is making me right now…

Let me know if you like :P

**Dhampir72**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: Wow, guys. Thanks for all the reviews and alerts. I'm so glad that you guys are enjoying this as much as I am! To show my appreciation, here's your second chapter!

**Thanks to**: firespaws, Kiminaru, Amedee-chan, Hola, Nusku, Freakingcage7, checkeredmoro, ClaymoreDarkAlicia, ritachi, KinKitsune01, Jay-Jay51, Ishikawa Yui, MonElisa, Dgm-yoai-lover, sweetpotato1992, whatthehellwasithinkin, BlueFox of the Moon, Nella is a Bumblebee, [Rabbits Galore], Lal Mirch, beautiful000enigma, Aion Laven Walker, methyl, Ghost of the Crescent Moon, MidnightEmber and everyone else for your love~!

A special thank you to **MonElisa** for catching my typo (DGM is set at the end of the 19th century, not the 18th, my bad, peeps) and to **ritachi** who gave me (and has been giving me) excellent advice.

**pqpq**

Lavi had no idea what to do in a situation like this. It had started as a normal day: Lavi woke up late, barely made it to work, and then drove fifteen minutes from his college campus to attend a mandatory Saturday class with his Art 113 class at 2:30pm. _Easy credit,_ he thought: _Easy day_. But then that all changed when the most unusual thing possible happened. A boy, whom he had never met and whom had been _stone_ not even moments ago, had suddenly come to life and was now unconscious in his arms.

A number of thoughts spun through his mind as he shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around Allen's prone form. Most of them consisted of the same basic question where Lavi asked himself what the hell he was supposed to do now; now that he'd destroyed a revered piece of artwork, brought a statue to life, and said now-alive statue was in need of medical attention. Lavi was sure he was in deep. But even with all of these concerns, he picked Allen up—surprised at how light he felt—and hurried out of the room. If he was a felon, the least he could do was at least treat Allen's injuries, hopefully without getting arrested.

The hallway outside the 19th century sculpture room was dark. Voices carried from different parts of the museum, but no one was in immediate view and Lavi took that as his cue to exit the building as quickly as possible. Meanwhile, in the security room at the Columbus Museum of Art, two security guards sat in front of blank monitors, wondering how the power could have gone out on such a clear November afternoon.

**pqpq**

Luck must have been on his side that day, because Lavi got them both home without problem. He even got a front parking space outside of his apartment, which almost never happened. It definitely made it easier to get Allen into the building without being seen. However, going up three flights of stairs to his flat was a bit rough, as Lavi was a little out of shape. When he got to his door, the redhead was panting something awful and his arms were straining even under Allen's small weight. All he could be glad for was that his key made it into the lock on the first try and that he was safely in his apartment before his landlord or some neighbor could walk by to witness him dragging a bloody and passed out boy into his room.

Home was its usual messy self, resulting in Lavi having to take giant steps over stacks of books and papers. He did manage to get into the bedroom to lay Allen down on his bed, letting out a sigh of relief when his arms were no longer being used as a make-shift stretcher. Then it was time to get busy, as Allen's wounds hadn't healed themselves on the ride over. Thankfully, Lavi still had a stocked first aid kit and plenty of bandages from the one time he and Yuu had tipped over on the Japanese man's motorcycle, resulting in road rash something awful on their arms and legs for three weeks. And Yuu had tortured himself so badly about the incident—that he'd hurt Lavi in the process—that he sold his bike a few days afterwards. Lavi shook his head, closing the medicine cabinet as he quickly made his way back into the bedroom, all thoughts of his ex-boyfriend pushed aside. He had more important things to worry about now.

The first thing was getting Allen undressed, which Lavi did with only slight hesitation, knowing that the boy needed to be patched up. With no injuries to his legs, Lavi covered Allen up to his waist to preserve his modesty, focusing instead on the gashes across his chest and what looked like a severe burn on his left arm. He cleaned the wounds (finding that the scarring to Allen's arm was old and not a fresh injury) and did his best with butterfly stitches to keep the skin together to heal properly, hoping it wouldn't leave too much of a scar. Lavi did the same thing to Allen's forehead, wincing at the old, deep scar that marred the left side of the younger boy's face. Then Lavi bandaged Allen up with gauze and padding, being gentle to not to shift any of his wounds in the process.

He let out a relieved sigh when he was through, leaning back for a moment to watch Allen sleep. Dark lashes lay splayed delicately against alabaster cheeks as Allen's chest moved with an even rise and fall. _So real_, Lavi thought, moving his hand to tenderly stroke Allen's hair. It felt like silk beneath his fingers. _So soft…_Lavi stopped his actions, feeling guilty as he remembered the way Allen had screamed out Rabi's name. Allen was not his to touch; this fact was made clear by the silver ring that glittered on his finger in the afternoon sunlight. An uncharacteristic frown pulled at his lips when he thought of the beautiful engagement ring in the black satin box that Yuu had shown him, asking: _Do you think Lenalee will like it?_ Lavi chewed bitterly at his bottom lip. Allen wasn't his and Yuu would never be his; it was just something that Lavi would have to live with.

Lavi covered Allen with a heavy blanket—the ring obstructed from view—to keep him warm and then pulled the blinds to keep it dark so the boy could sleep some more. With that done, Lavi allowed himself just one last touch to Allen's hair, feeling an overwhelming emotion of nostalgia take hold of him. It was something that breathed a gentle whisper within him, almost like _I missed you. _But Lavi didn't think about it for too long, clearing away the trash from the bandages and antiseptics before leaving the room.

He had homework to do.

**pqpq**

The End of Days was one of the most widely-read mythological stories aside from the more famous Greek or Roman poems by Homer, Sophocles, and Virgil. Its author remained unknown, but the story had been translated into almost every language and put into almost every single high-school curriculum since 1970. Although the Vatican had declared the epic poem to be something akin to a heretical doctrine because of the gratuitous violence and major theme involving Necromancy; not to mention that in some versions, Allen Walker's lover had been male, and the the Vatican had a strong rule against homosexual relationships, especially when said homosexual relationships occurred (in reality or literature) in their own Order. Despite that, it was still published and became great source of questioning for historians, archaeologists, writers, and basically anyone in the scientific community with an inquiring mind.

Lavi had his own copy: an old, leather-bound thing that his grandfather had picked up for him in some antique shop while he was traveling in Europe. There were beautiful illustrations in it: of Allen Walker and his comrades. In the text, none of the other characters were named, but were referred to by their part in the story: the Lover and Friend, the Lotus, the Heart, the Fourteenth, and so on and so forth.

As he flipped through the pages, Lavi became more and more convinced that the Allen in the story was the one in his bedroom. It was so unreal to think that such a thing could happen—that such a person existed. But Lavi was starting to believe, starting to think, starting to _wonder_ exactly why he felt so inclined to _know_ the truth. His fingers were itching for the phone, wanting to contact his grandfather, who was his last remaining relative. Would the old man believe his story? If so, what would he do? They had a boy who had spent the past one hundred years in a marble coma suddenly alive, awake, and wandering around in 2008. And he wasn't just some ordinary boy; he was a prophecy. In every translation it never deviated: "Allen Walker was the One chosen by God."

Lavi jumped when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he hastily put down the volume, taking out the Razor to stare at the screen. **Tyki Mikk Calling…**it read, the tiny icon of a phone making ringing animations. Thinking up the quickest lie he could, Lavi flipped open the phone and answered, in the most pathetic voice possible: "Hello…?"

"Lavi?" asked Tyki.

"Yeah…" replied Lavi.

"Where are you?" Tyki inquired, sounding a little pissed off. That's when Lavi realized that he'd completely ditched the other boy. He felt bad for a moment, but then it passed and he took in a semi-dramatic shuddering breath.

"Home…got sick at th'museum…" Lavi said, playing the sympathy card for all it was worth.

"Oh man, I'm sorry," Tyki replied, really sounding it. That made Lavi feel another stab of guilt that took a bit longer to fade. "And here I thought you played hooky without me."

"No…" Lavi said with a forced sounding groan. "…threw up…wasn't fun…"

"Sorry. That really sucks," he said. "At least you missed the crowd. The power got knocked out and we all had to leave. Apparently some thieves got into the museum and stole something big—they wouldn't say what. Cops were everywhere and they were questioning us and shit. It was a mess." He sounded really excited despite the fact that Tyki was making it come off like a big inconvenience. "Anyway, you need anything? I can drop by your place, if you'd ever tell me where it was…"

"'m okay…" Lavi replied, throwing his wrist over his eyes. He really hated lying, but his head hurt enough already without throwing Tyki into all of this. Besides, Lavi wasn't sure he wanted Tyki knowing where he lived, in case the Portuguese man turned out to be some sort of creepy stalker. "Don't wanna givit to you…"

"Okay…" Tyki said, disappointment ringing in his tone. "I'll give you a call tomorrow. And if you need anything, call, all right?"

"Yeah…later, man…" Lavi said, hanging up the phone before Tyki could keep him on any longer. He let out a sigh, tossing the cellular on the coffee table. Things were just getting more and more complicated. Even when he turned on the TV to watch something in hopes of distracting himself, Lavi was met with only the news.

"Today, an unknown number of thieves have pulled off what could be the most notable heist in years," said the newscaster on channel three. She continued with a serious expression, a picture appearing in the upper right hand corner of the screen of the sculpture that Allen had, well, been a _part _of. "This priceless piece of 19th century history was stolen from the Columbus Museum of art earlier this afternoon, when a power outage rendered the entire building without any security measures for forty-five whole minutes. Investigating the case are the Columbus police with the help of the National Historical Society in hopes of—" Lavi turned the television off, not wanting to hear anything else. Slumping back against the couch, he ran his hands over his face with another sigh.

"I'm so screwed…" he muttered aloud to the empty room. Pushing himself up off the sofa, Lavi walked quietly back into the bedroom to check on Allen. He was still sleeping soundly beneath the plaid blanket, his silver hair strewn across the pillow in a picturesque manner. Lavi went over and sat on the edge of the bed next to Allen, that feeling in him growing tenfold at their proximity. _Touch him_, it nudged against his psyche, and Lavi did, his fingers moving through Allen's hair, down his warm cheek.

When Allen didn't wake and Lavi was convinced that he wasn't feverish or in need of a change of bandages, the redhead got up and left just as quietly as he had come. Leaning against the door, he stared at his cell phone lying on the cluttered coffee table and made his decision.

"What?"

"That's a nice way to greet your grandson, whom you're supposed to fake love and adoration for," Lavi replied, listening to his grandfather grumble something that sounded offensive on the other end. But no matter how much the old man might hate on him, he was all Lavi had left. And Sid Bookman was one of the most revered anthropological historians on the east coast.

"What do you want, brat?" he asked.

"Um, well, this is going to sound kind of crazy…" Lavi said, wondering where to begin.

"Try me," Bookman said. Lavi knew that his grandfather had seen and heard of a lot of crazy shit, but he'd never heard something _this_ unbelievable. And when Lavi was through with his story, there was a heavy silence on the other end for a long moment. "Listen, boy, I'm only going to say this once: whatever you're on, stop taking it."

"W-What?" Lavi asked.

"The drugs. Stop them. Understand?" Bookman said.

"N-No! I'm not on _drugs_!" Lavi replied, not believing that his own grandfather would think he was some addict who was having strange, hallucinogenic experiences.

"You go to a liberal arts college; of course you're on drugs," Bookman answered, sounding unsurprised.

"No, no, no," Lavi said, waving his arms around as he paced the apartment. "I'm not on drugs, I swear. I haven't smoked pot since high school (oh, I guess there was that one time at Daytona last spring break, b-but that's beside the point)! Look, I'm telling you the truth. Turn on the news!" There was another moment of silence where Lavi waited with nervous, impatient footsteps back and forth across the small clean space in the sea of books and papers that littered his apartment floor.

"Christ, Lavi…" his grandfather said, sounding speechless.

"I know, right? I'm telling the truth, you've gotta believe me," Lavi replied, clutching the phone.

"You're a fucking thief now? What's _wrong_ with you?" Bookman asked, sounding outraged.

"I didn't _steal_ anything! Not really…" Lavi said. Technically he _did_ steal Allen, but, not really, right? "Look, he was _alive_ when I took him! Allen Walker came to life!"

"Do me a favor, Lavi," Bookman replied, sounding at the end of his very short amount of patience. "Stop the drugs, first of all. Secondly, stay home for the next few days and don't do anything stupid. I'll be in back from New York by Wednesday and when I do, you're going to rehab."

"You're shitting me, right?" Lavi asked.

"Don't make me tell you again," his grandfather said, with no room for arguments. "Now shut up, put your crack pipe out, and go to bed." He didn't even wait for a reply, hanging up before Lavi could get his swearing in. Pushing the call end button, Lavi dropped the Razor on the top of a pile of library books by the coffee table. After that, he threw himself on the couch and stretched out on the sagging cushions. So much for his grandfather being the one person who would always be there to support him…

Lavi pulled the blanket down off the top of the sofa and curled up under it. Maybe everything would be different in the morning. Maybe when the sun rose tomorrow on Sunday, he'd find that a priceless piece of art hadn't turned into a human before his eyes, that he hadn't "stolen" said priceless piece of art, and that his grandfather didn't think he was a crack addict. He could only hope everything would look brighter in the morning...

But at six a.m., Lavi was in for a rude awakening.

**pqpq**

Hope you enjoyed~! More to come!

**Dhampir72**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Thank You to: **BlueFox of the Moon, Nusku, Kiminaru, Lal Mirch, ritachi, Aion Laven Walker, Freakingcage7, Ishikawa Yui, Nella is a Bumblebee, KinKitsune01, Crazy Little Feline, Jay-Jay51, sweetpotato1992, InfinityOnTheRun, Darkspider, ravenangel23, SakuraKissy, galerian57, whatthehellwasithinkin, Rika-chan 14, ShinigamixGirl, and everyone else for their favorites/alerts~!

**pqpq**

_Cold, chilling rain fell from the darkening sky. Droplets like icy needles fell down, down, down upon the charred, black earth; upon the bleeding skin that lay bare beneath the torn tatters of his Exorcist uniform. Upon the pale lips of his lover who lay motionless before him. The lips Allen knew he would never kiss again._

"_I'm sorry…" Allen murmured, touching Rabi's cheek. His gray eyes were dark with exhaustion, but mostly with grief and guilt. If only he had been faster; if only he could have stopped it, then Rabi wouldn't have…Allen's hand balled into a fist as hot tears ran down his face. It just wasn't fair. None of it was fair. All he had wanted was to live happily with Rabi. That was all he wanted and they had been so close…what was the point in winning the war when the person you fought for was now gone? _

"_Rabi…" he cried, leaning over Rabi to kiss his chilled forehead. His body was feeling heavy and Allen could only hope it meant that he would soon follow his lover to that other world. "I'll…be there soon…" Allen whispered, stroking Rabi's cheek. But his hand stopped moving, turning gray, stiff—like stone—consuming his arm in marble paralysis. "We'll…be together…like we promised…"His lips froze in place, the tears on his cheeks hardening in eternal sorrow as everything turned to black…_

It was warm and soft; those were the first things Allen noticed when he began to float back into consciousness. He breathed in and out evenly, taking in the unfamiliar scent of the pillows and sheets around him. Unrecognizable, but reminiscent of something long past. It reminded Allen of crisp mountain air on a clear fall day, mingling in with something else that took him a moment to identify as paper. Paper and books on a cold mountain in autumn, spiced with honey and clover. That's what it was, Allen decided, his eyelashes fluttering open slowly into wakefulness. He felt warm and safe despite the fact he had no idea where he was, the darkened room just as confusing as the fleeting remains of the dream he could barely remember.

Sitting up, Allen winced, touching his bandaged chest. He didn't recall being hurt, but the stinging and aching in his body certainly clarified that he had been injured recently. The silver-haired boy leaned back against the handsome mahogany headboard with a sigh, looking down at his mismatched hands in questioning. His mind was like a dusty attic, with scattered pieces of memories missing, as if they had been caught in spider webs just out of reach. He rubbed his head, trying to remember something that could explain where he was and why he was there.

"Rabi," Allen said with surety. The redhead was a vibrant picture in his heart; someone he could never forget. He looked at the ring that adorned the ring finger on his human hand. "Rabi." Saying it again, the dream slowly came back to him: the end of the war, the final battle that had ended with…Allen gripped the bed sheets tightly, gritting his teeth. "No…" Rabi couldn't be _dead_—Allen choked at the mere prospect—and he knew this because he remembered something else, something a bit fuzzy but very _there_ in his mind: Rabi standing before him in a white, round room…

Allen shook his head, his temples aching with stress. Had it all just been a dream? Was he back at the Order where his lover had been taking care of him all this time? Had Rabi gotten them the house on the beach that they had spoken about in secret, hoping whispers late at night? He pushed the blankets back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, determined to find out what had happened while he was unconscious. And although he got out to a shaky start, Allen was able to walk across the darkened floor, only tripping once over a stack of books he didn't see by the door.

Opening said door, Allen blinked back the weak sunlight that spilled into the room via slatted blinds that hung over the windows. It was a small space, covered with bookcases that seemed to overflow with volumes and tomes. The floor reminded Allen of Komui's office: a sea of papers and folders that was parted in a narrow walkway so that a person could walk between rooms without stepping on something important. Used to such a mess, both in the eccentric Chinese supervisor's office and in Rabi's own bedroom, Allen easily navigated his way through the clutter toward the sofa in the middle of the room. Lying on the green cushions beneath a thick flannel blanket was…

"Rabi…" Allen breathed a sigh of relief, keeping his voice low so he didn't disturb his lover from slumber, as he looked exhausted. Leaning on the back of the couch, Allen simply stared at the redhead for a few moments, admiring him with a feeling of peace. They had both survived and that meant they could finally—_finally—_be together.

Quietly, Allen walked around the couch, crumpling a few papers on accident as he treaded between the coffee table and the sofa. But Rabi had always been a relatively heavy sleeper, so he didn't wake at the sound. Allen allowed himself to smile as he sat on the edge of the couch next to Rabi on the soft cushions. He slept just like always, on his back with his messy hair flopping all over the place in every direction. His long body was only more accentuated by how small the couch was, Rabi's feet dangling over the arm in his stretched-out position. Allen very gently reached out and touched Rabi's cheek, not wanting to wake him, but wanting to _feel _him, just to assure himself that this was real and that they were both _there_. Rabi didn't stir beneath his hand or show any indication that he felt the fingers moving softly through his hair, so Allen leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to his lover's forehead before standing up again. He was just about to switch positions to lie next to Rabi when something caught his eye, causing him to wander past the coffee table and away from the couch, toward a brown box beside one of the bookcases crammed with too many volumes.

Inside the box was a photo frame, the light from the windows causing a glare to form on the glass plate which was what had initially stolen his attention. Allen knelt down next to the box and pulled out the frame, staring at the two smiling faces in the picture with a blank face. It was a sunny scene, with Rabi smiling in that way he normally did. But he wasn't wearing his eye patch, which was strange because Allen knew he only went without it in the privacy of their own bedroom, as Rabi was embarrassed about his slightly discolored and blind right eye. In this picture, however, he was quite obviously out in public without his eye patch, with his arms quite obviously _not_ around Allen. They were around Kanda—_Kanda_—of all people. And the Japanese Exorcist was actually _smiling_ a little bit. Just a slight upward curvature of the lips, but it was a smile.

He set the picture aside and rifled through the rest of the contents inside the box. There were more pictures of Rabi and Kanda. Some big and shiny, others small and narrow with white borders. But in every photo, Rabi and Kanda were there with the two of them leaning close to one another as if…Allen felt something like anger sink into his expression as heat gathered in his cheeks. _As if Rabi and Kanda were lovers_. Allen's left hand gripped the side of the box so tightly that it actually ripped. But despite his anger, he still continued to go through the things inside the box.

There were a few more framed photographs that he shifted to the side, some small knick-knacks, and a pile of cards that Allen picked up and looked at. The first that he found was a shiny note, with long, scrawled script inside that was so distinctly _Rabi_ that Allen could barely handle seeing Kanda's name written at the top with almost loving loops at the _K_ and _d_. The message that followed made Allen feel like something hot and painful was being driven into his chest over and over and over again:

_Yuu,_

_Happy fourth anniversary! I know you hate cards, but I couldn't help myself. Here's to another four happy years and hopefully many more._

_(And I know you'd call me sappy, but:) Love, Lavi._

At that point, Allen didn't want to read anymore or look at anything else, or wonder why Rabi had spelled his own name so differently. He was just so completely consumed with this feeling of betrayal that he began throwing the items back into the box without trying to be quiet. The sound of one of the glass frames shattering, though, sent Rabi jumping off the couch with a surprised shout.

"Allen…" he said, holding a hand to his chest as he tried to control his breathing. He looked relieved, but also concerned. Allen didn't let that affect him; attempted to ignore how Rabi looked so adorable when he woke up with his hair sticking out all over the place. All their years spent together as lovers was something that Allen pushed out of his mind, his anger and hurt manifesting itself in his frown and the way he tightly clutched a framed photo of Rabi and Kanda. "Hey…are you okay? You shouldn't be up yet…"

"Don't tell me what to do, Rabi!" Allen said, with enough force that Rabi stopped taking steps closer to him.

"Just…calm down, okay?" Rabi replied in that low, soothing voice he had used when Allen's nightmares had frightened him in the middle of the night, seeking the warmth and security of his redheaded lover. The silver-haired boy shook his head adamantly, not wanting to listen or _remember_.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down," Allen said, with enough venom in his voice that he could almost taste it. He had never been this angry with anyone before in his life, especially Rabi, of all people. Sure Rabi had done some stupid things, but the redhead had never tapped into the hidden reserve of wrath that Allen harbored inside him for battle. He held his hand up for Rabi to see the ring that adorned his finger: the one that Rabi had given to him the night they made their most intimate promises. "You…did our promise mean _nothing?!_" The picture in Allen's hand and the fact that Rabi's ring finger was missing the twin silver band made Allen realize that it had all _had_ been for nothing. Everything he had ever believed in, fought for, _loved_ was just a lie.

"Allen, listen…it's not what you think," Rabi said, still in that quiet, calming voice that Allen just _didn't_ want to hear at that moment. All he could think of was the words Rabi had whispered in his ear so tenderly as they made love; the way Rabi held him when it felt like his entire world was falling apart. He felt so damn _cheated_ to find out that Rabi hadn't been his at all and had played him with _Kanda_…It was just too much to take.

"Not what I think? Rabi, you _lied _to me!" Allen cried, his head so confused at everything he had discovered, the ring burning like betrayal on his finger.

"No, listen," Rabi said, taking a step closer to him, but just a small one. "Look, I'm not R—" But before Rabi could attempt to explain himself with some useless words that wouldn't make _any _difference, Allen felt his arm reeling back and then forward, the grip from his hand releasing its hold on the picture frame. The object was hurled right at Rabi's forehead, where it hit him above his right eye. Because of the force that the frame had been thrown, Rabi fell backwards and to the floor, where he didn't move after that.

Allen panted harshly, staring at Rabi for a few moments as his anger slipped away. Then when he realized what he'd done, he stood there dumbfounded and scared.

What had he just done…?

**pqpq**

Whew. Short update, sorry guys. Moving in tired me out...

More real Lavi/Allen-ness soon, though, so give me love?

**Dhampir72**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!: **BlueFox of the Moon, Kiminaru, WrathofMugen, Nusku, whatthehellwasithinkin, Chiaki Saruwatari, ritachi, ShinigamixGirl, Aion Laven Walker, KinKitsune01, EmiTsukiko, freakingcage7, darkspider, ravenangel23, Sazuka-Chan, methyl, twilightserius, Nella is a Bumblebee, SakuraKissy, Ishikawa Yui, Wind In Your Whiskers, and everyone else who favorited/alerted this fic!

**pqpq**

The first thing Lavi noticed when he came to was that his head hurt. Not like the normal, stress-induced headaches he gave himself during the long studying hours he put into research. And it wasn't the kind of headache that resulted from Lavi doing all of this said studying without wearing his reading glasses. It was a different sort of ache: as if he had been struck with something heavy and sharp.

Opening his eyes, Lavi then came to the realization that he was lying flat on his back looking up at the cracked, off-white ceiling. He wasn't on the couch, but lying on the cushioned carpet among the books and papers Lavi knew he was guilty of leaving scattered haphazardly around the house. Groaning, Lavi pushed himself up, clenching his eyes shut as the world began to spin and tilt like a carnival ride. He gripped his head, withdrawing his hands when they felt slick with something warm and wet. Red stained his fingertips and he grimaced, wondering what had happened…

When he tried to get up, Lavi concluded that he was still a little too disoriented to be standing. Therefore, he was resigned to lean against the side of the couch as he held his palm to the wound on his head, trying to help stop the bleeding with light pressure. _What happened…?_ he could only wonder, looking around the apartment. Lavi couldn't remember being attacked or robbed, so what was it…?

His hand dropped to his side in an attempt to push himself up again, but something cracked under his palm and Lavi looked down. Behind the cracked glass smeared slightly crimson was a framed picture of himself and Yuu when they had been dating over a year ago. The two of them had been at the cherry blossom festival, something that Lavi had insisted they go to because Yuu was Japanese and would never admit out loud to liking. They had had such a great time, that Lavi was able to get someone to take a picture of the two of them beneath one of the pink, blooming trees and Yuu had actually smiled in it. Although they had broken up, Lavi was sentimental, especially when it came to photographs, and hadn't been able to get rid of such a fond memory. He had put all the pictures into a box by the TV and had been meaning to getting around to hiding it in the back of his closet. It wasn't letting go, he knew, but Lavi liked the feeling of knowing they were still in the house when Yuu _wasn't_ there anymore.

"Rabi…" said a voice from the doorway. Lavi looked up quickly at the sound, having momentarily forgotten that the statue-that-came-to-life was still in his house. Here he had thought it had all been a dream, but Allen was standing there right before him with a strange look on his face; in his hand he was carrying a dripping washcloth. As Allen came closer, Lavi put the frame down with the picture facing the carpet, recalling then that it had been the cause of the very ungraceful fall and painful injury. "Tell me the truth, Rabi…"

"Wait," Lavi said, putting his hands out to stop Allen's train of thought and movement. "Let's clear this up, okay? I'm Lavi, not _Rabi_." Allen shook his head, coming closer until he was kneeling down in front of Lavi.

"I don't care what persona you have, Rabi," Allen replied, as if he hadn't even heard Lavi. "You're still _you_." Leaning forward, he pressed the washcloth to Lavi's bleeding temple. It felt cold and good against his throbbing forehead, but it did nothing to alleviate the confusion Lavi felt at Allen's words.

"What are you talking about?" Lavi asked. "I'm Lavi and I've always been Lavi." Now it was Allen's turn to look confused.

"No, you're Rabi and we've been lovers for three years!" Allen replied, some heat in his voice, tinged with a bit of desperation. "You…remember, don't you…?" Just like with Tyki, Lavi felt compelled to please Allen by telling him what he wanted to hear. But none of it made sense and even though the other boy's silver eyes were so beautiful and _sad_, Lavi just couldn't form a single lie.

"I've never met you in my life before yesterday," Lavi said quietly, his green eyes flickering downwards at the words, not wanting to see what devastation he wrought take form in Allen's expression.

"B-But you know me! You know my name!" Allen protested.

"Everyone in the literary community knows your name," Lavi replied, keeping his voice gentle for what he knew was just going to be bad news for the younger boy. "You're a hero in one of the most well-known myths of all time."

"Y-You were there…" Allen said, grasping at straws. "You brought me here…" He touched the bandages on his abdomen, looking at Lavi searchingly. "You took care of me…"

"Of course I did," Lavi answered. "You were hurt. Anyone would do that for someone who needed it." Allen's face made Lavi's heart clench painfully. It was like the silver-haired hero's world was just crashing and burning to the ground all in the course of a few sentences.

"You look just like…" Allen tried to argue, glancing up at Lavi. The redhead didn't know that he looked like the famous Allen Walker's lover, but that was beside the point. At that moment, it was all rotten luck and just more pain for Allen to deal with when he realized that everyone he knew had perished at the turn of the last century. Allen's voice cracked when he looked down and said: "But you're not…?"

"I'm sorry…" Lavi said lamely, not knowing what else he _could_ say in this situation. And he knew what the next question would be without Allen moving his lips.

"Does that mean…Rabi is…?" Allen asked with hope-drenched questioning. Lavi had to steel himself to crush that little bit of hope.

"He…died," Lavi replied, and even though his voice was quiet, it still seemed to fall loud and heavy in the room, crushing down on his own shoulders like an anvil.

"No…" Allen's one word came out as a whisper. "How…?" Lavi looked at the pattern on his pants and then at the loops in the carpet, wondering if he should answer. It had been a long time since he had read End of Days but he knew the gist of it; Lavi knew that Rabi had died in the final battle. He had been trying to help Allen, even while injured, and had perished at the hands of the enemy. Judging from what he remembered of the text and recalling the statue of the dead boy, Lavi knew that it hadn't been quick.

"The…story says he died in battle," Lavi replied, words catching on what he was going to say next. _Lie_ something inside of him begged. _Lie to him_. "It was quick; he didn't feel much…" Lavi watched as Allen gripped his chest in anguish at the news, the ring on his finger catching the light that spilled in from the window. But he didn't fall apart, no matter how much Lavi could tell he wanted to. That little lie had given Allen the bit of strength that he needed.

"At least…he didn't suffer…" Allen murmured with his head bowed over his knees. Lavi could see crystalline tears falling from his cheeks and he fought the urge to _hold_ Allen. He settled somewhere in the middle, resting his hand on top of Allen's head to gently stroke his soft hair in a comforting manner. "I'm sorry…" Allen hurriedly brought his hands to his face, trying to wipe away his tears.

"It's okay," Lavi said in kind understanding. He knew what it was like to lose someone, both to death and to another relationship. Crying was just something that came along with those feelings of helplessness. "You can…if you need to." Allen shook his head, taking a deep breath before looking up. But the moment their eyes met, Lavi could see his resolve crumble. The redhead felt badly because something as unchangeable as his very face caused pain for Allen. Moisture gathered at the corners of Allen's eyes.

"It's just…not fair…" Allen said, looking down. Lavi saw that he was fiddling with the ring around his finger and didn't know what to say. To lose someone _that_ important was almost incomprehensible. "We…didn't have a choice." Lavi wasn't sure what Allen meant, but remained quiet, thinking that maybe it would be better for the other boy to talk about it. "The war, I mean…we didn't choose to be soldiers. We didn't _want_ to fight….we just wanted to…"

"Be together," Lavi said, understanding that feeling without Allen having to finish his statement.

"Yeah…" Allen murmured, touching his ring to his lips. "That…was all we wanted…" Lavi went quiet again, letting Allen do his thinking and breathing without interruption: without anything that would shatter the fragile amount of control he was displaying, reducing Allen to pieces. After a few moments, Allen sniffed and wiped his eyes again. "Sorry," he said once more, but Lavi didn't blame him for his tears. Looking up at Lavi, Allen asked: "How's your head?" Something inside Lavi hurt when he realized that Allen wasn't looking into his eyes.

"Um…it's fine…" Lavi replied, feeling awkward as he pulled the washcloth down. It was tinged pink from the blood that had soaked mostly through it. The air was too heavy, and even more so when Lavi commented: "It's not everyday I get hit with things…" It just made Allen fidget and look as awkward as Lavi felt.

"Sorry," they both said at the same time, eyes meeting for a moment before shifting to the side to look at something else like a pile of teetering books or the loose upholstery on the sofa.

"Can I…ask why you threw this in the first place?" Lavi asked, holding up the picture frame, photo facing him. He decided that their first—technically second—meeting wasn't going very well when Allen didn't answer for a few minutes. "Um, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to…"

"It's Kanda," Allen said, his voice a little glum. Lavi looked at the picture, wondering how Allen knew him and decided to ask.

"Yes, it is. How do you know that?" Lavi asked, his brow furrowed as he looked at the picture again. Had Yuu's name been somewhere in the photograph…?

"It's another Exorcist from the Order: Yu Kanda," Allen answered.

"Well this is my boy—" Lavi stopped and corrected himself: "—my ex-boyfriend _Yuu_ Kanda." He looked at the picture closely. "Perhaps they're related somehow…?"

"What year is it?" Allen asked suddenly, catching Lavi a bit off guard.

"2008," Lavi replied, making a sympathetic expression when he saw Allen's face. It was a lot to process in one day: that his lover was dead and he woke up in the distant future.

"2008…?" Allen repeated, his expression far away and perplexed. His hands then moved to his face in a frustrated gesture as he pulled at his hair. "2008." Lavi had never felt more awkward in his life. On one hand, all he wanted to do was comfort Allen, but on the other, he couldn't even lift his fingers an inch to touch the other boy's back, afraid of what that simple contact could reduce Allen to. Gray eyes finally looked at him, full of lost confusion. "How…am I still alive?"

"You…" Green eyes met silver as Lavi struggled to find the correct words to answer the question. "In the myth, at the end of the final battle…you turned to stone…" Allen's face was incredulous, but then contemplative, as if he was recalling something from his distant memory. Did he remember the night that he had won, but lost everything?

"Stone," Allen repeated, leaning with his back against the coffee table. It was a lot to swallow and it showed.

"I don't know why," Lavi said, filling the silence with something other than uncomfortable stillness. "It's just how the legend goes…and then a couple years ago they discovered—well, you—and your statue has been on display in almost every museum since then." Lavi paused, folding the washcloth into a small square to look anywhere but Allen. "Because the U.S. was on the list, you've been touring every major museum here in the states. That's how…" Lavi trailed off, not knowing what conclusion to draw upon after that. All he had done was touch Allen's hand on some irrational impulse and then all of this had fallen so spectacularly into his lap.

"The…white room…" Allen murmured as he brought his knees to his chest. "There was a white, round room…and you…were there…" Lavi felt a hot lump in his throat for some reason, so he swallowed thickly and nodded as he scratched the back of his head.

"Columbus Museum of Art," he explained, even though he knew the words would mean nothing to Allen.

"But how…did I go from being stone to…" Allen touched his very human flesh, smoothing his palms against the bandages on his arms and chest. Lavi watched with fascination, trying to ignore the fact that he realized Allen was only truly clothed in a loose button-up shirt, as the redhead had removed the younger boy's tattered trousers before putting him to bed. It was difficult to move his gaze away, as Allen was truly beautiful: even more beautiful than his marble form. The lean curves to his muscles, his elegant structure…Something inside of him whispered: _mine_. Green eyes moved to the bookcase when the ring on Allen's finger reminded Lavi that the other boy was not his to look at.

"I don't know," Lavi replied to Allen's question. "We'll…look into it. In the meantime…let me look at your injuries and I'll make some breakfast?" He looked up, slightly hopeful with his proposal. And even though Allen nodded, it was an automatic sort of gesture, his face an immobile mask covering his turbulent thoughts. "Okay…" Lavi shakily got up, his head still throbbing a bit. He was going to go into the bathroom to get some more medical supplies, but he figured it would be better to get Allen up off the floor where he was sitting in such a dejected looking way. "Here, let me help you on the couch at least. It's more comfortable there." Holding out his hands, Lavi felt stupid when Allen just looked at them as if he didn't want to touch him at all, the person who looked like his lover, but _wasn't_.

After a moment, though, Allen reached for Lavi's hands with his own. Their palms touched as Lavi helped Allen to a stand, a flash of an image rushing to his mind of _a rainy night with black, black skies, and air heavy with dust; Allen on the ground before him panting, exhausted, but smiling and taking his hands, smooth silver rings brushing against one another_… Lavi blinked, the scene vanishing to the present reality where Allen wasn't looking at him like that and his ring finger felt empty. Perhaps he'd been hit harder in the head than he first thought.

"I'm going to go get…" Lavi began, but stopped because he knew Allen wasn't listening, sitting on the couch with his blank expression again. "Okay." He spoke only for his own sake, coming back to Allen after he had gotten the medical supplies. Allen was still for the time when Lavi treated his injuries, not even blinking when stinging antiseptic was applied to the cuts to reduce infection. Although it had only been a few hours, the wounds looked much better than they had yesterday, and Lavi was secretly grateful that it wouldn't be poor medical treatment that could make Allen sick. As he wrapped Allen's injuries, Lavi spoke just to fill the empty silence in his apartment. He really didn't talk about much, just about himself and his time: "…so that's where I go to college. I'm a graduate student there, too. History and library science major, can you believe that? People make fun of me for it, but whatever. I really like it…probably because my grandfather was a librarian too and made me read all the time. I spent a lot of time in libraries when I was a kid; gramps didn't believe in child care—" Lavi laughed softly as he bound the bandage gently. "But after my mom died and my dad ran out, I was kind of glad that he didn't put me somewhere else. Even if it meant sitting in his office for hours after school…I guess I just read to pass the time!"

But even as Lavi spoke, Allen didn't say a word. And when Lavi finished bandaging him up, Allen still didn't speak. Lavi cleaned up and kind of nudged Allen to lie down on the couch, which he did obediently. "Maybe you should get some more rest?" Lavi suggested, and Allen nodded, but didn't close his eyes. He just stared blankly at the black screen of the television as Lavi covered him with a blanket. Somewhere in the house, he softly heard his phone ringing with Imogen Heap's _Hide and Seek_ as the ringer.

_Mmmm whatcha say  
Mmm that you only meant well? _

_Well of course you did…_

Lavi walked away from the couch, searching in the nearby books and papers for wherever he had dropped his phone the night before. It was Yuu's ringer--which he found dreadfully appropriate--so Lavi frantically searched for the Razor under parts of his dissertation.

_  
Mmmm whatcha say  
Mmmm that it's all for the best?  
Of course it is._

Even though they had broken up, Lavi was still eager to answer Yuu's calls. And even though the calls were always Yuu asking him how to impress Lenalee, Lavi was still pathetically in love with his ex-boyfriend's voice.

_  
Mmmm whatcha say?  
Mmmm that it's just what we need  
You decided this.  
_

While he was searching, Lavi knocked a bunch of stuff off his coffee table, the sound of the song moving with it. He immediately began shifting through those papers and books, tossing aside his copy of End of Days and a few other novels that he had been reading to find the ringing phone.

_Whatcha say?  
_

"Hello?" Lavi said, sounding breathless when he answered.

"Why the hell does it take you so long to answer the goddamn phone?" asked Yuu, in a very angry sounding way. But it was his usual greeting and Lavi was glad the Japanese man couldn't see the happy smile on his face.

"Sorry. You know how messy my place is," Lavi replied. Yuu paused a beat before replying:

"Whatever. Lenalee was bitching last night because we were supposed to hang out and you never showed," Yuu said, moving right onto the point of the call. "She told me to call _again_ to make sure you weren't dead in ditch somewhere."

"N-No, I'm fine," Lavi answered, his heart beating stupidly fast. Had Yuu been worried about him too? "I was home all last night. I just went to bed early; didn't feel good."

"You must sleep like a rock if you didn't hear your phone ringing all last night," Yuu said.

"You know what I sleep like, Yuu," Lavi replied, cursing himself for those words the moment they left his lips. Yuu was quiet on the other end for about half a second.

"Just shut up, Lavi," Yuu said, sounding as if his patience was wearing thin. Lenalee's voice sounded in the background: something about being nice. Lavi cringed a bit, realizing that the girl was close to him during the call. Lenalee still didn't know about their past relationship, as she had gone to a university in New York for two years and then studied abroad for another two, only to come back to Columbus to complete graduate school with Lavi and Yuu. Yuu had asked Lavi not to tell Lenalee about their nearly four-year long relationship, and the redhead had agreed, still so in love with the other man that he would have done anything for him. Even now, Lavi kept that promise, which was why he had cleaned his apartment of anything that would make Lenalee think the two of them had ever been more than just friends. "Whatever. Lenalee and I are coming by to pick you up."

"P-Pick me up?" Lavi repeated, leaning on the arm of the sofa to steady himself.

"We're going to Lenalee's art gallery today," Yuu said. "You said you'd come help set up before the opening tomorrow." Lavi did recall that somewhere in his messy house, he had a planner with the date circled and the event hastily written so he wouldn't forget. But he had forgotten anyway, as the planner was nowhere to be found and Lavi had had other things on his mind besides Lenalee's paintings. And there was a part of him that just didn't _want _to go; spending the day in the two lovers' company as they walked so openly hand-in-hand, when he and Yuu were forced to only use eye contact to express their feelings to one another in public. He and Yuu weren't together anymore and Yuu was happy with Lenalee, and Lavi was horrible because he just didn't want to see that and have their love so openly slap him in the face.

"Um, yeah, about that…I'm not really feeling well today…" Lavi said, quickly glancing at Allen who was still lying motionless on the couch.

"You're not getting out of it," Yuu replied. "Be ready in five minutes." And then he hung up the phone, leaving Lavi standing there with the cell to his ear, the dial tone ringing loudly at the disconnection. He flipped the phone shut, throwing it back on the coffee table. Cleaning up the apartment took too long, so he didn't even bother; only taking the picture that had been thrown at him to throw back in the box. Then Lavi took the box and moved it into the nearest closet, shoving it on top of his old camping gear. He'd deal with it later, he told himself, and closed the door.

"Okay…" Lavi sighed, realizing that he had said that a lot today, but it was mostly to just calm himself down. Everything was just getting too messed up too fast and Lavi rubbed his aching head, wanting it all to just be a dream so he could wake up to be his usually sad and uncomplicated self. The redhead had just gotten his breathing under control when there was a knock at the door. It was the same, almost angry knock that Yuu had had before Lavi made him a key to the apartment so he didn't have to be so upset at not being able to get in. Those days were long past, though. Yuu had returned the key when they'd broken up and the subject hadn't come up since.

"I know you're in there, so stop hiding," said Yuu from the other side. Lavi momentarily saw Allen's head jerk up at the sound of his voice, but that didn't stop him from going to the door to open it just a crack. Yuu was on the other side, looking gorgeous as always even though he didn't try and even though it wasn't Lavi's place to notice this fact about the other man any longer. Lenalee was behind him, her short, shoulder length hair perfectly straight, framing her smiling face nicely. They were a cute couple and Lavi actually felt nauseous a little.

"I wasn't hiding," Lavi said, a few seconds too late. He turned his attention to Lenalee. "Hi, Lena."

"Hey, Lavi," she replied, her smile falling a little. "Are you okay? You look a little pale…"

"I'm kind of sick right now…" Lavi lied, looking down so he didn't have to lie to their faces. "…so I don't think I can come today…"

"W-What do you mean?" Lenalee asked, looking upset. "You said you'd help me, Lavi! Yuu and I can't do all the work ourselves!"

"I'm sorry…I just don't feel well," Lavi said, aware of Yuu's eyes burning into his temple. The other man was good at being able to tell when he was lying.

"Liar," he rightfully accused, pushing past Lavi into his flat. Lenalee followed suit with an apologetic glance. Lavi took a breath to tell them to stop, but the words never came so he closed the door once they were inside. He expected the usual words from Lenalee ("Lavi, your place is a _mess_! Why don't you just organize! You'll be able to get more done!") or the snide remark from Yuu that the place was a pigsty. But today, they were quiet and Lenalee's only comment was a question: "Oh, hello. Who are you?"

"Crap," Lavi swore under his breath, remembering that Allen was still on the couch and that it was going to look really bad either way. If Lavi didn't explain, they would think Allen was his boyfriend; if he did explain, they would think he was crazy. And it looked like things were going to go the boyfriend route because Lavi didn't say anything and Allen got up off the couch, standing before the couple in his living room with only the redhead's oversized shirt clinging to his small frame.

"Rinali?" Allen asked, his voice wavering as he looked at the Chinese girl. Lenalee appeared confused, glancing over at Lavi for some kind of explanation. Allen's attention turned to Yuu and he asked: "Kanda?" The Japanese man looked irked at the sound of his name, wheeling around to face Lavi with an angry expression. He didn't say anything, but Lavi could tell that he was pissed off, probably because Lavi wasn't lovesick and single anymore yearning for him.

"Did we…come at a bad time?" Lenalee asked, trying to be polite about the situation.

"_Sick_ my ass," Kanda said, not bothering to use class. "Sorry we interrupted your fucking. Let's go, Lenalee." Lavi didn't bother to stop them, looking down as the two of them passed by him toward the door; Allen was red in the face with embarrassment as he pulled the blanket up to cover his indecency.

"I'll call you later," Lenalee said, before Yuu slammed the door shut behind him. Lavi could hear their footsteps get further away as they walked down the hallway, Yuu talking in fast, hushed Japanese to Lenalee. Leaning against the door, Lavi listened until he couldn't hear them anymore, straining his ears for the sound of Yuu's Honda pulling out of the parking lot. He could just barely detect the screeching tires as they sped away down the street. Sliding down to the floor, Lavi put his face into his hands, wondering if everything was just going to get worse from there on out.

"That was…Rinali and Kanda…" Allen's voice made him look up. The younger boy was sitting on the couch, looking just as lost and confused as before.

"The girl is actually Lenalee," Lavi corrected, but only half-heartedly so. He didn't have the energy to speak after what had just transpired. The look on Yuu's face had made him sad; made him felt like he was betraying the one person in his life he cared most for. But Yuu didn't love him like that anymore, so Lavi knew he shouldn't have felt bad even though he _did_.

"But…they…_you_…" Allen murmured, meeting Lavi's eyes. "You all…look the same…as you did…"

"One-hundred years ago?" Lavi asked and Allen nodded. The redhead sighed and ran his hands over his face tiredly. Not only was he confused and frustrated, but now he was also a bit freaked out as well. Not only did Lavi look like Allen's dead lover, but Yuu and Lenalee looked like Allen's old friends too.

This was just turning into one big fiasco.

**pqpq**

Wooo! I finally got around to writing this! Sorry, guys, about the delay. School's been kind of hectic in the sense that it's never quiet enough for me to take a few hours to write something worth-reading. Hopefully this satisfied you until my next update! It sure was fun to write! (Not BETAed or proofread. If you find any glaring errors, please let me know! I had to run to class, but figured I'd post this quickly for you guys~!)

Love, peace, and cookies,

**Dhampir72**


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry for the delay on this, guys. See my lengthy, whiny excuse at the end of this chapter. In the meantime, enjoy the _moar_. And also, **thank you to**: KinKitsune01, WrathofMugen, kenpachi-sama, NellaXIval, Nusku, sweetpotato1992, twilightserius, BlueFox of the Moon, Aion Laven Walker, Darkspider, ravenangel23, SakuraKissy, ShinigamiXGirl, asdfasdfg, MonElisa, Ishikawa Yui, Cormick, Chiaki Saruwatari, Tsumi no Curse, Dark Green Poop, and everyone else for your love and support over my month hiatus…thing…

**pqpq**

It was hard to take in.

That was all Allen could think as he sat on the edge of the couch, covering himself up from the waist down to preserve his modesty, staring at nothing and everything all at once. His head was spinning rapidly as his mind tried to process the information. It was real, the hazy bits he could remember of the end of the war. And this was real too, not just some dream he would wake from to sunshine spilling in through the windows in his room, wrapped in comfortable sheets and the warm arms of his lover.

Rabi—no, _Lavi_—sat by the door. He looked as distressed as Allen felt and the younger boy felt badly for being the cause of it. But he couldn't get up, couldn't even muster up the strength for an apology. Allen rubbed his eyes irritably, wishing everything would make sense. The faces he saw around him were so familiar, but had different names behind them. Different smiles. Different lives. They weren't the people he knew, his comrades. They didn't even know who he was, and he in return didn't know them. Those people he used to fight so hard for, loved so much, were nothing more than mere shadows of a time that no longer existed.

"Here." Allen looked up at the sound of Lavi's voice. Some time must have passed, as there was a plate in front of him: eggs and hash browns freshly cooked, smelling delicious. Allen stared at it, slowly realizing that he was hungry and couldn't remember the last time he had eaten… "I'm…sorry. I should have asked what you wanted," Lavi said, probably assuming that Allen didn't want the food because he hadn't taken it. The silver-haired boy's stomach gave a large growl of protest, making Allen flush with embarrassment. Lavi just laughed at the sound and the younger boy felt his heart nearly stop at how _familiar_ it was.

"Thanks…" Allen replied, accepting the plate. He set it on his knees, taking the utensils from Lavi as well, but he didn't begin eating. Instead, he watched as Lavi went back into the kitchen and helped himself to a plate before coming to sit on the cluttered coffee table across from Allen. He didn't look like he wanted to eat, but picked at his eggs a little. Allen did the same. For some reason, the few bites of food that would have otherwise left him starving made him feel full.

"I'm sorry," Lavi said again.

"For what?" Allen asked.

"For everything being so fucked up," Lavi said. He sounded so sincerely sorry. Allen tried to push it out of his thoughts, but it still made it through: that was the same tone Rabi had used when he truly felt guilty over something.

"It's not your fault," Allen replied. He didn't want to blame Lavi for what had happened, but a part of him still wished he was obliviously sleeping.

"I don't know what to do," Lavi admitted, giving Allen a weak little smile. The younger boy thought Lavi was like a transparent sheet over Rabi. Even their mannerisms were the same: the slight squint to the eyes, the way his brow furrowed slightly upwards.

"Me neither," Allen said. The two of them looked at each other for a moment…and then for no real reason at all, laughed. It was that kind of laughter that Allen had experienced on the battlefield, when things weren't looking great, but something so trivially amusing popped up. It was normally Rabi who pointed it out. The chuckling relieved stress then and it did now. Allen felt some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"Well, at least we're in the same boat," Lavi said. Allen looked down at his plate, eating a few more bites of his breakfast. Maybe they weren't completely in the same boat, but Lavi seemed to understand him for the most part. And the parts that he didn't understand, he was respectful of. Allen mentally slapped himself so that he didn't compare the boy in front of him to his deceased lover. Allen's grip tightened on his fork as he tried to keep himself from falling apart; tried to not _remember_ Rabi's still form on the battlefield… "Are you…okay?"

"I'm fine," Allen replied, looking up with a fake, half-smile. For a moment, he was almost certain Lavi saw through it, _just like Rabi always did_. He didn't push any further and the two of them finished their breakfast in silence. When they were through, Lavi took Allen's plate. Their hands brushed and both of them looked anywhere but at each other, their cheeks flushed with heat. After Lavi had finished with the dishes, he came back into the living room and they sat in silence again, not quite knowing what to say or do.

"Um…so…" Lavi began after a few moments, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His green eyes were cast downwards looking at the carpet. Allen was grateful for this somewhat, unable to draw that line between Rabi and Lavi. They just looked so _alike_…it wasn't fair. To Allen _or_ to Lavi. "Do you…want to go out?"

"Out," Allen repeated, turning his head slightly to look out the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lavi finally look up, a bit hesitantly. He blocked the other boy out of his peripheral, ashamed.

"If you don't feel well enough, we can stay in," Lavi said. "I just thought…you might want to take a look around, is all."

"I do!" Allen replied, turning his gaze back to the redhead sitting on the cluttered coffee table before him. Two matching emerald eyes widened slightly at the enthusiasm in Allen's voice, but his lips turned up in a smile.

"Okay," he said, standing up. Allen looked at Lavi's shoes when he stood, not wanting to stare as the redhead's shirt rode up slightly when he stretched.

"Where do you want to go?" Lavi asked.

"Wherever you want to go," Allen replied, not knowing where there was and where there wasn't to see.

"I'll give you a tour of the city. How about that?" Lavi inquired.

"Okay," Allen answered, in no position to reply in the negative. He looked down and threaded his fingers into the loose loops of the blanket over his body. "Um…can I borrow some pants?"

"Y-Yeah! Sorry…" Lavi said, hurrying out of the room almost like he was on fire, rushing back in almost as quickly with a new set of clean clothes in his hands. "I'm sorry if they're too big. Maybe we'll get you something that fits when we're out…" Allen accepted the clothes, careful to keep his hands and fingers to himself this time. Lavi awkwardly excused himself to give Allen privacy to dress, and Allen did so slowly. He was careful not to hurt any of his healing wounds in the process just as he was careful to not think about his past or present or future and what it all had to do with the redheaded man in the other room.

The ring on his finger was warm. No matter what, Allen knew that Rabi was Rabi and Lavi was Lavi. They weren't the same person. The boy in the other room who looked so much like Rabi was not his lover; not the boy he had fallen so hard for; not the boy he had cherished more than anything in the world. Lavi wasn't anyone to him, no matter the fact that he had Rabi's face and eyes and hair and the rest of him that matched so perfectly. It wasn't Rabi.

It wasn't.

**pqpq**

Lavi took him out of the house and showed him new things that had new names. There were shiny carriages in the lot outside, but they could move without being pulled by horses. Allen could only associate them as if they were small, personal trains that could run off steam like the real ones that he and his comrades would use to travel all around Europe. That made him sad to think about, so when Lavi explained that the transport before him ran off gas, Allen had only been half-listening.

Allen saw many more things as well. They were all new, reminiscent of old things that had been revamped into something modern. Everything was much bigger, louder. It smelled crowded and thick with something heavy and noxious. There were too many people everywhere. The buildings were unbelievably tall, even taller than the tower at the Black Order. If anything, the assault of new things was slightly terrifying and Allen kept a tight grip on Lavi's proffered hand.

"Are you scared?" Lavi asked, looking at him. He wasn't judging, he was just curious; concern flickered behind his eyes like the light of a candle.

"No," Allen said, looking down. They were waiting to cross the street, but the things Lavi called cars were moving too fast to make it across. His hand tightened considerably in Lavi's when a big truck flew by, honking its horn. "A little…"

"It's okay," Lavi replied. And the way he said it made Allen feel like it _was_ okay to be a little afraid. After a few moments, the cars stopped behind a white line, leaving them room to cross. As they passed in front of their roaring mouths, Allen was reminded of caged animals waiting to strike.

"There aren't akuma anymore, are there?" Allen asked, once they had safely reached the other side of the road.

"Akuma?" Lavi repeated.

"Demons," Allen tried instead. The other boy smiled gently and shook his head.

"You don't have to worry about them anymore," Lavi said. "That was all taken care of years ago." Allen must have not looked convinced, his eyes scanning the area warily as they continued down the gray sidewalk. "You're to thank for that." Allen felt himself blush a little at the compliment, looking down at his feet as they walked for a while in silence. Even the bustle of the city around him couldn't distract Allen from his thoughts. He was glad there were no akuma anymore, because the green cross on the back of his left hand didn't glow brightly with life any longer.

**pqpq**

"I figured this would be nicer than everything else," Lavi said. The sidewalks and busy streets and looming buildings were gone, giving way to a sunny afternoon. Although the sun was high in the blue sky, it was slightly chilly. Allen pulled the jacket Lavi had given him more tightly around his body. It smelled like the safety and warmth of the blankets in the bed back in Lavi's flat. "It's a city park, so it's well-cared for." Children were laughing nearby, swinging and running. Some people were eating beneath red and orange trees. Ahead of them, a couple held hands and walked close together. Allen let his hand fall out of Lavi's, which the redhead released without comment. The younger boy tried to not notice how sad Lavi looked, instead choosing to stare at the ring on his finger.

"So…are you hungry?" Lavi asked, after they had walked around the park completely.

"No, not really," Allen answered. He wasn't used to craving only small portions of food, let alone being completely not hungry. The young boy wondered if it had anything to do with the unusual behavior of his left arm.

"Thirsty?" Lavi was trying, Allen knew, so he answered:

"A little."

"Do you want to try something?" Lavi inquired, indicating the few vendors that were situated there.

"Something hot?" Allen suggested, following behind him as he went to one of the booths. He didn't want to get lost in such a strange place. The thought was terrifying. This wasn't his world, after all, and he had no idea what to do if he were to be separated from the boy in front of him. Although he considered Lavi to be no one he was emotionally attached to, Allen knew that he would feel a sense of lost hopelessness without him. He felt shamed to think that that was all Lavi was good for. The guilt made his throat burn.

"Try this," Lavi said, handing him a warm white cup. Inside was something hot and steaming that carried the pleasant aroma of chocolate and marshmallows. They sat on a cold bench nearby and drank. It was sweet.

"Hot chocolate," Allen said, looking over at Lavi. "Right?"

"Yup. Best stuff in the city," Lavi replied, taking a sip of his. He was trying to be cheerful, but his eyes were far away and he looked defeated in some way Allen couldn't explain.

"It's good," Allen conceded, continuing to drink from his as well. The taste reminded him of the time when it had snowed so much at the Order one winter. It had been one of their few moments of peace, when everyone had been Headquarters, the place they called home. It had been before Christmas that the snow came, so deep and white, almost tantalizing. Even the adults couldn't resist playing in it. They went and made snowmen and sledded down the hill. Komui had made some sort of strange super sled that ended up crashing and burning. They had started a bonfire around the broken invention, but Komui didn't seem that bothered by it, his arm around Rinali's blanketed shoulders. Jeryy came down to visit them sometime afterwards with hot chocolate so delicious that Allen could almost still taste it. As everyone celebrated and danced and sang merrily, beneath their own quilt, Allen and Rabi had held hands. Later in the evening, they had even gotten so daring to share a chaste, happy kiss. Everyone had cheered, making them embarrassed. If Allen thought really hard, he could almost remember the feeling of Rabi's lips against his, tasting like warm, sweet chocolate.

"That's good," Lavi said, waking Allen from his half-conscious daze. The drink in his hands wasn't warm anymore. "Do you want to go back now?"

"Yeah," Allen replied. It was cold and he shivered, but tried to hide it. Lavi saw anyway and he took off his scarf to put around Allen's neck. His expression was so tender that Allen felt guilty again.

"Okay, let me throw these away," Lavi said, taking Allen's cup and his. There was a green waste bin a few feet away near the small bridge that stretched over a little pond. After he tossed the two white cups in the basket, Lavi began walking back, but was intercepted by someone before he could get too far. A tall man with tanned skin and black, curly hair. A man that Allen recognized from _that night when Tiki Mick had his hand inside of Rabi and was holding him, holding him there, threatening that he could do it—would do it—"Isn't that the testament of true love? When someone gives you their heart?" he asked, grinning widely. He gripped the organ inside of Rabi, Allen knew, because the pain that broke through his lover's expression was testament to that. Even still, he didn't scream. "I can give you this boy's heart. Will you take it, Allen Walker?" _

_His feet were pounding on the cracked, charred earth, kicking up gray dust in the cold dawn as he ran. Ran past the bodies that lay strewn across the broken boulders and the black ground. Ran as hard and fast as he could, leaving the battle behind. All that mattered was Rabi, even though Rabi's one eye was telling him to not come, to go back, to leave him, _It's okay_…_I love you_. But Allen couldn't listen. Rabi was already too hurt, too tired to fight, Allen knew. He was too precious for Allen to leave behind._

_He lunged after the Noah. Then Tiki reeled backwards from the force of Allen's blow, falling to the black earth. And Allen began to hit him, again and again and again. He couldn't stop. Tiki was going to hurt Rabi if he didn't and that gave him the strength to continue to pummel the other man. Even if he was human, even if it went against everything that Allen believed…it didn't matter because he knew that Tiki would have done it if…Rabi was lying on the ground in his peripheral, not moving. His fist stilled halfway in the air. The Noah's hand was bloody and in his palm he held—_

"_The Bookman's heart," said Tiki, grinning from behind crimson lips. "How poetic." _

"_No…! NO! __**NO**_!_" _

"Allen! Allen, stop it! Just—_stop, Allen!_" A pair of strong arms held him in place, kept him from swinging his fists again at the boy who had Tiki's face. He was panting, his throat raw from screaming and his fists stinging from the physical punching he had been doing. The man who looked like Tiki was on the ground a few feet from him, bloody and shaken. Behind him, Allen could hear someone's heavy breathing. The person trying to restrain him sounded afraid when he asked: "Allen…?"

"He…he…" Allen's voice trembled as he spoke. Something hot was running down his cheeks relentlessly and his knees were so weak he could barely stand. "He…k-killed…"

"I didn't kill anyone! What are you, crazy?!" shouted the man on the ground. He stood up quickly brushing himself off and straightening his jacket, expression angry. As he rose to his feet, Allen sunk to his knees, unable to support himself any longer. The person behind him eased down as well, but did not release him. "Lavi, who is this guy?"

"Rabi…God, he killed…Rabi…" Allen murmured to himself, unable to erase the image from his head. It all made sense now, those broken, fragmented images in his head. They had come together too fast and too darkly for his liking and now he could only see Tiki's gleeful face and his bloody hand and Rabi lying so still. The heart that had once been so full of life and love was physically lying in Tiki's palm, beating the last few beats of existence…

Allen couldn't hold back and he threw up.

"You're okay," said the voice behind him. Cool fingers moved his fringe back from his face as he gagged. A gentle hand rested on his back and rubbed soothingly in an attempt to calm him. From somewhere nearby, the man Allen had attacked was shouting, but the younger boy couldn't understand the words. He tried to ground himself to the present—to not think or remember the past of _that night_—but it was difficult. His senses were fleeting in and out of different times and he could not distinguish the difference between them. That is, until his retching stopped, giving way to only numbness and confusion and pain, but he could feel clearly. There was warmth, arms around him that anchored him to this place and time. _Lavi. _His hazy mind thought, although the name came with surprising clarity. _Safe_.

"Lavi…" Allen murmured. He was shaking, even with the other body pressed against his.

"You're okay," Lavi said, rubbing his arms.

"He…" Allen began, unable to finish. The words just wouldn't come.

"It's okay," Lavi replied, his voice soothing. Something warm fell around his shoulders: Lavi's coat. But even that couldn't stop his trembling. He sought the safe comfort that he had experienced before back in Lavi's flat and Allen leaned against him, clutching at the taller boy's shirt. Allen felt weak—weaker than he'd felt in a long time—but couldn't help himself. He wanted to be held, to feel safe, for once not afraid and completely terrified of the nightmares that were no longer figments of his imagination. The arms that moved around him, almost molded perfectly to the shape of his body, were just what he needed. They were just like the arms that would comfort Allen when he most needed back then.

"Rabi…"

"It's okay, Allen," said Lavi, his breath ghosting through silver hair. "Everything's going to be okay."

And Allen believed him.

**pqpq**

Aw. Poor Allen. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I love making him suffer sometimes.

Hopefully this story will get an upswing in updates. I sure hope so. I realized how much I missed this story after I reread it :)

However, just as an apology (that you've probably seen on either _Bookman_ or _100_):

**Author's Apology: **My lack of updates has a reason. I know everyone was getting really upset that I wasn't updating for a while, but I have bad news. I was suffering from extreme pain and numbness in my hands and fingers. When it finally got to the point where I could barely hold a pencil in class, I went to the hospital. Apparently, I have carpal tunnel syndrome. For those of you who don't know, it's a painful condition where pressure is put on a certain nerve (the medial nerve, I think) in your arm. It limits wrist and finger mobility greatly. I am in fact in a great deal of pain typing this now (probably because I have to wear these dumb brace things.) but this doesn't mean that I'm going to stop writing. It just might take me a while to get it finished, as I have to start and then stop and then start again. I hope you all understand. Maybe once I'm on my medication for a while, the pain won't be so bad and I can pick up some slack…

So there you go. Lengthy, I know, but truthful. I'm hoping that the pain will go away with therapy and medication, but there's only so much they can do short of injections and surgery. However, I'm going to do my best.

Send me some love, everyone! It's you guys who are gonna get me through this one~!

Love,

**Dhampir72**


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for all your love and understanding. Because these braces and medication are making me feel slightly better than before, I'm going to try to pump out as much fanfiction as I can. **Big, big thanks to**: asdfasdfg, NellaXIval, EXO718, AirElemental101, Nusku, Fayzee, KinKitsune01, Freakingcage7, ravenangel23, Ishikawa Yui, darkxwolfxdemon, Voltairey, GoGothGirl, stoneygeek, Lor, SakuraKissy, OyaSUMi-heart, Toraus, sweetpotato1992, Tsumi no Curse, Sazuka-Chan, whatthehellwasithinkin, Darkspider, Aion Laven Walker, Allen-kunROX, Chiaki Saruwatari, EmiTsukiko, and everyone else for all your love and well-wishes.

**pqpq**

Lavi couldn't figure out how things had spiraled so suddenly out of control. In one moment, he and Allen were enjoying the day and their hot cocoa. But in the next, Lavi was trying to stop the smaller boy from completely pummeling Tyki into the pavement. It had been so strange, too, because Tyki had appeared out of nowhere. He wore a worried expression and immediately launched into some lecture about Lavi being out of bed in the cold while under the weather. As the redhead tried to explain himself, Tyki was suddenly thrown to the ground by Allen, who was screaming loud enough to grab the attention of _everyone_ in the park.

"What's wrong with him?" asked someone when Lavi was in the process of prying Allen off Tyki's battered form.

"He's crazy! Should I call the police?" inquired another, cell phone already in hand.

"No! It's okay! He's okay!" Lavi said anxiously. If the authorities were involved, he was screwed. Not only that, but Allen would be taken in for questioning, and the younger boy looked like he was in no condition for that. Not to mention, Lavi's grandfather would be even more convinced that he was a drug dealer if he called the old man from prison… "Allen! Allen, stop it! Just—_stop, Allen_!" Lavi managed to get a better hold of Allen to keep him from moving too much. People were staring and Lavi was panting with the effort from fighting with the younger boy. But after a moment, he felt the tension begin to leave the silver-haired boy's shoulders. "Allen…?"

"He…he…" Allen was mumbling so softly that Lavi could barely hear him. He was crying and Lavi didn't know _why_. "He…k-killed…"

"I didn't kill anyone! What are you, crazy?!" Tyki shouted, when he had scrambled away. He was holding his hand to his bleeding nose to stop the flow. "Lavi, who is this guy?!"

"Rabi…God, he killed…Rabi…" Allen was rocking back and forth in Lavi's hold. Trying to comfort Allen, he also tried to make the man closest to him put down his cell phone. But before he could explain, Allen leaned forward and threw up. It wasn't that bad, because he hadn't eaten much, but everyone still backed away a few steps like he had the plague.

"You're okay," Lavi said, holding back Allen's hair. When there was nothing left in his stomach, he dry heaved for a while before going rather limp in Lavi's arms.

"What's _wrong_ with him, Lavi?!" Tyki shouted. He was pressing the hem of his shirt to his nose in an attempt to clot the bleeding wound. Other people were still lingering by curiously, wondering the same thing.

"He's…an old friend of mine," Lavi replied, thinking up a quick lie as he held Allen. "He has PTSD. We were just coming back from therapy…" People accepted this lie quickly, understanding that in the current day and age, post traumatic stress disorder was something that was very real and frightening. Even Tyki didn't appear so angry any longer. The man close to Lavi put his cell phone away with a sympathetic look.

"Lavi…" Allen murmured. The boy's body was shaking so Lavi rubbed his arms comfortingly.

"You're okay," Lavi repeated. People were averting their eyes, ashamed that they had judged so quickly.

"He…" whispered Allen, his voice sounding horrified.

"It's okay," Lavi said, both to Allen and a woman nearby, who had offered to call an ambulance. He took off his coat and put it around Allen's trembling form, not really feeling the cold assault his own body. A hand clenched at his shirt as Allen turned himself toward Lavi like a small child, seeking comfort from him. It was all Lavi could do to give it to him.

"Rabi…" He was still crying. Lavi wrapped the jacket tighter around him to keep him warm.

"It's okay, Allen," Lavi said. He rested his chin on top of Allen's head, holding him completely against himself. It was like the one time that Yuu had been torn up over the death of his guardian, Froi Tiedoll. The Japanese boy hadn't cried openly or shown any emotion at the funeral, but that night in their room his mask broke. That was the only time Lavi had been able to hold Yuu so tenderly; holding him like the world was going to end tomorrow. But this time, it wasn't Yuu, it was Allen. And Lavi knew exactly what to say: "Everything's going to be okay."

**pqpq**

"Do you need to go to the hospital?" Lavi asked, looking over at Tyki. The hot cocoa vendor had given the Portuguese boy a bunch of napkins to clean himself up with. He looked up and shook his head, removing the wad of crimson paper from his nose.

"I'll be okay, as long as it's not broken," Tyki replied. He was looking at Allen jealously, but trying to hide it. It was only more obvious and Lavi pretended not to notice. "So who is he?"

"Like I said, he's an old friend," Lavi answered, lifting Allen into his arms.

"Where's he from?" Tyki asked. Lavi tried to think quickly and came up with:

"New Jersey," he said.

"What happened to him?" Tyki inquired.

"I don't know," Lavi lied.

"How long is he in town for?" Tyki asked, jealously creeping into his tone.

"A while," Lavi replied vaguely. His arms were trembling under Allen's unconscious weight.

"Is he staying at your place?"

"Is this an interrogation?"

"No, I was just asking."

"Well, yes. He is staying with me."

"Are you dating?" When Tyki asked this, he looked hopeful for a negative answer. Lavi knew that if he replied truthfully, Tyki would continue to pursue him. But if Lavi lied and said they were…

"It's kind of an on and off thing," Lavi answered. Tyki's expression fell and the redhead felt guilty. Not only because he had lied and made Tyki upset, but also because he had made up a lie about him and Allen to get out of something so trivial. "Anyway, I'd better get him home." Allen looked horrible, so Lavi figured it was the best course of action and began heading for the street to call a cab. He threw some kind words back at Tyki, feeling truly ashamed: "If you need anything, text."

"You won't answer," Tyki stated quietly from behind him. Lavi heard it anyways.

It hurt because he knew it was true.

**pqpq**

The ride home was short. Thankfully it wasn't too much of a fare and the cab driver didn't ask why Lavi had an unconscious boy across his lap. And thankfully, Lavi didn't have too much of a problem getting Allen back into his flat and into bed. He changed the bandages over Allen's wounds before tucking him into the blankets again, not wanting to stay and look at the younger boy lying motionless against the pillows. Leaving quietly, he closed the door behind him and walked out into the living room, plopping down on the couch with a sigh. Lavi's head was pounding and he felt slightly sick to his stomach. Not only was he a nervous wreck about everything, but he was also confused and frustrated with himself. His phone hummed in his pocket and Lavi lazily pulled out the Razor to look at the text message.

**I'm coming over. Stop fucking.**

It was from Yuu and Lavi groaned, throwing the phone on the coffee table irritably. Turning over on his side, Lavi curled up against the couch cushions. Maybe when Yuu came over, he could just ignore the other boy until he went away. But ten minutes later, there was a loud, annoying pounding on his door that was hard to sleep through. When it got to the point where Lavi was afraid the Japanese boy would break the door down, thereby alerting both his landlord and possibly Allen, the redhead got up off the couch to let him in.

"Why the fuck were you making me wait so long?" Yuu asked. He was pissed, that much was for certain.

"I was asleep," Lavi lied, but he looked a little disheveled, so maybe it was slightly more convincing than his normal false truths. Kanda didn't say anything, walking in without being invited. Lavi figured it was pointless to deny him entry anyway, and sighed as he closed the door. "What do you want?" He hadn't meant to sound testy, but his head was still pounding and he'd had a very _bad_ day.

"What do you mean 'what do you want'?" Kanda asked. He knocked some of Lavi's books and papers on the floor so he could seat himself in a nearby chair. Hopefully, it wasn't something important that Yuu had just thrown out of order, but Lavi honestly didn't care at that moment. He stayed standing, liking the feeling his height brought him. As if he had power in this situation.

"It's a question of inquiry, in which I ask you what your purpose for being here entails," Lavi replied. Yuu's head whipped to look at him angrily. The redhead knew that Yuu never liked it when he used big words. The Japanese boy crossed his arms and glared harder, almost pouting. Lavi would have found it somewhat adorable if he hadn't been exhausted and impatient.

"It's Lenalee's fault," Kanda said.

"Did you have a fight?"

"No."

"So you did have a fight."

"No."

"Then why are you here if you didn't have a fight?"

"Just shut up, Lavi," Kanda snapped, leaning back in the chair as if he owned the place. Which he didn't. For some reason, his nonchalance and borderline cruelty set Lavi over the edge. He shoved Kanda's feet off the small stand he'd been using for a pedestal. Some notebooks fluttered to the ground in a rustle of offended pages. Kanda's eyes narrowed into slits with anger.

"Don't tell me to shut up," Lavi said, his voice steely. He'd never lost control like this before with Kanda and the flicker of emotion that broke through Yuu's expression testified to this sudden occurrence. "This is my house and if you're going to pull this shit, then you can get the fuck out."

"Stop your bitching, Lavi. You sound like a woman," Kanda replied snidely.

"You look like one," Lavi answered back.

"Fuck you," Kanda said.

"I already have," Lavi replied, smirking victoriously. "Fucked Yuu, that is." Kanda's cheeks turned red with anger and possibly embarrassment. There was no trace of the pleased blush that had sometimes appeared there when they had been dating before.

"You're an asshole," Kanda said, crossing his arms again. "And speaking of assholes, where's your boytoy? Or did you already tire him out?" Something inside of Lavi burned with a fiery anger at Allen being called a _toy_. A stirring feeling within him growled at the derogatory term.

"It's none of your business."

"Who is he?"

"None of your business."

"How long is he staying?"

"Yuu," Lavi said, cutting the other boy off. His tone had a tenor of finality to it. "We're not together anymore, as you've so happily put it again and again. Why the fuck do you care what I do with my life?"

"I don't care," Kanda replied.

"Then why are you asking?" Lavi inquired. His anger was almost at its peak. Never before had he wanted to punch someone in the face so badly.

"Curious."

"You're never that curious."

"Maybe not," Kanda said, standing up. They were eye to eye and Lavi actually felt himself stand up to Yuu this time instead of backing down like he normally did. In this game of wills, he was determined to triumph.

"We're not together, Yuu," said Lavi. He gathered up all of his courage: the courage that had vacated him all the times that he'd let Kanda walk all over him; all the times that he'd been unable to tell Tyki to step off and leave him alone. Lavi gathered up all of that strength and looked Kanda in the eyes as he was able to finally form the words: "So it's really none of your business anymore."

"Fine," Kanda replied, anger in his voice as well. The two of them were pissed about two different things and when Kanda grabbed onto his arms with enough force to bruise, Lavi lashed out and slapped the other boy across the cheek in an attempt to get away from the grip on him. Yuu didn't let go, keeping the firm hold on Lavi as he pushed him against the bookshelf nearest them.

"Ow…" Lavi whimpered when the sharp spines of the books dug into his back. But he didn't let the discomfort keep him occupied for long. Raising his head and his voice, Lavi nearly shouted: "Get out!"

"Shut up," Kanda advised. "You wouldn't want to wake up your fuck buddy, would you?" Lavi felt the heat rise in his cheeks with rage. For some reason, he felt like it was not only his anger, but that presence he had felt stirring inside him since Allen's awakening. _Don't talk about my Allen that way_ it almost seemed to pulse with protective assertiveness. That combined with Lavi's own feelings of caring for the traumatized boy sleeping in the other room only added fuel to the fire.

But before Lavi could think of a course of action to get himself out of the current situation, Kanda had pressed him harder against the shelves. He couldn't make out a sound, his lips occupied with Yuu's that were hungrily pressing against his own. Everything inside of him froze at the contact, his mind blanking. His body remembered Kanda's touch, the way their lips molded together, and it responded automatically to the stimulus before Lavi could squash it. Out of all the nights he'd lain awake after he and Kanda had broken up, longing for Yuu's kiss, when he finally received what he had been yearning for, Lavi wanted nothing more than to push the other boy away.

There was the thumping of books as Kanda pressed him harder against the shelf. Lavi's protesting hands pressing against Yuu's chest did nothing to get the other boy off him. He bit the Japanese man's lip as a warning to stop, but if anything it just made Kanda continue more vigorously with his actions. When he felt fingers pulling at the waistband of his pants, Lavi redoubled his efforts to get away, going so far as to attempt kicking Kanda in the groin. But he was effectively pinned, and the only thing his struggles got him was a painful thump on the head against the hard corner of the wooden bookcase. Lavi bit Kanda harder, enough to draw blood. Enough to make Yuu pull away. Crimson colored his lips.

"Stop. Right now…" Lavi said, his mouth feeling swollen and violated. He'd never felt this way with Kanda before. What had possibly changed to make it feel so _wrong_?

"I thought you liked it rough," Kanda replied, grabbing his wrists in a painful grip. Lavi winced, knowing he'd be bruised by tomorrow.

"It shows how much you know about me," Lavi replied. His heart was hammering loudly, his face hot. Kanda was looking at him in a way he didn't like and for the first time in a long time, Lavi felt a little afraid.

"I know _too_ much about you," Yuu said. His black hair fell before his eyes, casting them in darker shadow. "Besides, I thought you'd enjoy it. Being a whore and all." Lavi's green eyes widened with shock; out of all the things Yuu had called him, it had never been the outright word _whore_.

"I think you should go now," Lavi said, trying to pull his hands away. Kanda held them firmly, staring at him with an intense, angry gaze. Pressure was applied to his wrists and Lavi winced in pain.

"You think I don't know, but I do," Kanda said, not listening. He leaned closer and Lavi could see something that resembled hurt behind his wrathful façade. "And I won't ever forgive you."

"What are you talking about?" Lavi asked thickly, not understanding. He'd never done anything to Kanda. If anything, he'd loved him _too_ much. Lavi never cheated or lied or did anything to warrant the treatment he was receiving.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Kanda replied. He let go of Lavi's wrists, shoving him back into the bookshelf once more for good measure. A few more novels came falling down around him, but Lavi didn't care, staring right into Kanda's eyes, seeking answers. Kanda's lips pulled up into a sneer and he flipped his hair over his shoulder. "Slut."

"Did you come here just to tell me that? To make up stories about me for your own amusement?" Lavi asked, his voice rising in pitch.

"No," Kanda replied, black orbs glaring like fiery coals. "I came here to fuck you. Thought it would be a nice, easy lay. Something to pass the time." It hurt, like a physical jab, and Lavi clutched at his chest as if he'd been stabbed.

"Is that all it was to you, hm? Just fucking? Was that it? Almost _four years_ of just _fucking_?!" Lavi yelled.

"Don't act like this is _my fault!_" Kanda shouted back. Lavi had rarely heard Yuu speak above a normal indoor voice, let alone scream at someone like he was doing now. "It's not _my_ fault! It's all _yours_!"

"How is it all _my_ fault, Yuu?!" Lavi asked, so frustrated he was practically on the verge of tears. "What did I _fucking do_?!" Kanda's expression suddenly made a quick transition by smoothing over to his usual, calm demeanor from the angry one he had been displaying a moment before.

"Not what. More like _who_," Kanda replied, making his way to the door as Lavi stood there in confused, numbed silence.

"But I never…there was…only you…" Lavi said. Kanda looked at him over his shoulder, as if considering this, but then his eyes hardened again and he turned away to walk out into the apartment hallway.

"That's not what Tyki said," Yuu answered. "And really, I thought you had better taste." With that said, he slammed the door, shaking the entire flat. Lavi sunk down to the ground, listening to Kanda's footsteps walk down the landing, take the stairs, then onto the next landing and more stairs…they echoed as they got further away. His head in his throbbing hands, Lavi sat on the carpet amongst his ruined books and papers in stunned silence.

He stayed that way until the sun had moved from the corner to the middle of the room where he sat. With a dull gaze and slow footsteps, Lavi went and locked the door, turned out the lights, and went into the bedroom. Allen still lay sleeping there. Somehow, he hadn't woken up during the commotion, and Lavi was grateful.

In the small slant of afternoon sunlight, Allen laid like something beautiful and otherworldly against the sheets. Lavi's shaking fingers gently touched silver hair, soft skin, traced the indented scar on the left side of Allen's face. Plump lips parted slightly in his sleep when Lavi's pinky moved across the lower one with a feather light touch. A few moments later, dark lashes fluttered open to reveal a pair of deep, silver eyes. They were shining with what could possibly be described as delirium, but they were still so stunning that Lavi couldn't look away. And then Allen smiled, and Lavi knew that nothing could make him leave the boy's side. Even if…

"Ra…bi…" Allen murmured softly. Lavi's heart gave a painful twinge as a small, bitter smile worked its way to his lips. Even if Allen thought he was Rabi, he'd stay beside him. It hurt to think that the times when Allen looked at him like he was Rabi were the ones that struck him with jealousy for not _being_ Rabi. No one had ever looked at him like that, because no one had ever unconditionally loved him like Allen had loved Rabi. And Lavi _wanted _that. He wanted someone to look at him like that and feel that way about him.

"I'm here, Allen," Lavi said. Even if it was a lie, he could pretend that this love was real for a moment. His heart physically _ached_ for the boy wrapped in flannel sheets and he felt like crying. Unfair.

"Rabi…I had a bad dream…" Allen replied, his eyes already beginning to close. Two hands—one rough, the other smooth—held onto him weakly with sleep. "Stay…"

"Don't worry," Lavi said, lying down next to Allen. It felt so _right_ after everything that had gone so wrong. The silver-haired boy smiled, curling up next to him comfortably. He fit perfectly against Lavi's shoulder, just under his chin. Perfect. "I'm here."

"Mm, Rabi…" murmured Allen, his lips brushing against Lavi's neck. "…I love you."

A small part of him soared while the rest of him sank. It wasn't real. Allen didn't love _him_. He didn't love Lavi Bookman. He loved Rabi. That would never change. The hand clutching at his shirt sleepily wore the ring that confirmed this truth. This was all just some fleeting fantasy that Lavi could never have. But he could pretend for right now. He could pretend that someone loved him for real, just this once.

"I love you, too, Allen."

Maybe he was a whore after all.

**pqpq**

Aw. Poor Lavi. He deserves hugs and chocolate.

Good, happiness to come. For realzorz this time.

Soon, I promise!

Love muchly

**Dhampir72**


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry for the lack of updates. School hurt me last quarter more than my CTS did. For the time this wasn't updated, I'll have you know that my heart was elsewhere, and therefore I did not force myself to write something that would become inferior to the rest of this story. Now, I've captured my muse and return.

Thanks for your continued support: Nusku, SincerelyRainbow, BlueFox of the Moon, NellaXIval, KinKitsune01, whisperypath, ravenangel23, Fayzee, Darkspider, kenpachi-sama, SakuraKissy, Chiaki Saruwatari, Tsumi no Curse, sweetpotato1992, whatthehellwasithinkin, Aion Laven Walker, OyaSUMi-heart, ritachi, beautiful000enigma, Crazy Little Feline, GoGothGirl, saxon-jesus, ChocohalicsAnonymous, MonElisa, InfinityOnTheRun, and everyone else for your favorites and alerts.

**pqpq**

When Allen awoke, it was gray and still. He was comfortably warm, lying on something soft with a light weight on his shoulder. Pillow, bed, blankets. The words came to him as his mind began to register consciousness. Allen was no longer in that dark place where it was raining and there was _so much blood_. He was in the present, in the now, in the current year 2008. Silver eyes focused on the calendar on the bedside table: 2008. He blinked owlishly at the number. It looked so strange on paper, probably because he had always thought he would never see the year 1900, let alone 2000. Allen's head began to hurt thinking about it.

There was a faint hiss coming from a room adjacent to the one he was in. It sounded like a shower head, so Allen deduced that Lavi was bathing. Rolling over on his side, Allen rubbed at his temples, looking at the calendar again. 2008. Beside the paper block there was a small, rectangular contraption. A red number glared back at him. 5:32. He closed his eyes with a sigh, listening to the water fall in the bathroom. A few moments later it switched off and Allen rubbed his eyes, imagining Lavi stepping out of the tub, drying his hair on a towel, maybe looking at himself in the mirror. Such average things to do when one went through the ordinary motions. Allen recalled with painful clarity the times he had watched Rabi go through the same routine. Something that had seemed so banal then now seemed like something so damned _important._ Allen had to wonder if it was because Lavi looked so much—too much—like Rabi. He stopped that train of thought before it left the station, not wanting to venture down that horrible, guilt ridden track again.

Lavi stepped out of the bathroom, the door creaking a bit on its hinges. Even though Allen's eyes were closed, he could feel the steam and smell the fresh scent of soap and shampoo. It smelled nothing like Rabi, but it was nice in its own right. He kept still, listening to the soft footsteps on the carpet. Lavi was tiptoeing, believing Allen to be asleep most likely. He used this to his advantage, cracking his eyes slightly so he could watch the other boy without being detected.

The redhead was standing quietly at the dresser, opening the drawers silently one by one to fish articles of clothing out. He was completely bare save for a towel that was wrapped loosely around his waist. Allen let himself stare for a moment, taking in the smooth lines of Lavi's body by the golden light of the bathroom. He wasn't overly muscular, but he wasn't skinny either. Lavi was as Rabi was—had been: tall, lean, and nicely defined. The silver haired boy mentally shook his head, wishing he could stop comparing as he squashed that compulsion. He had something else to distract him from these thoughts.

Lavi's back was to him, his strong shoulders looking slightly defeated in the dim illumination, as if he were tired of carrying the burden of something too heavy for him. But that wasn't what had caught Allen's attention. It was the discoloration that ran the length of Lavi's spine. Purple, blue and swollen. Bruised as if he had been hurt badly. _Recently_. The pain was obvious when Lavi accidentally dropped a sock on the floor. It hurt Allen just to watch him bend over in such anguish to obtain it. But the empathy turned into a bit of anger when Allen noticed that Lavi's back wasn't the only thing that was black and blue. His wrists were too.

_As if someone had held him down_.

Allen continued to watch in silence, anger burning inside him as Lavi walked with a pained gait back toward the bathroom. A few moments later he emerged with loose pants and a shirt on, towel drying his hair.

"Lavi," Allen said. He watched the outlined form of Lavi jump slightly in the dark. Then he turned and looked at Allen, the bathroom light showing his face in more clarity. He looked awful, as if he'd slept badly or not at all.

"Allen?" he replied, in a voice that made Allen think that Lavi believed him to still be asleep. It was that quiet tone that people used when they thought another person was speaking in their sleep.

"Are you okay?" Allen asked, sitting up. The redhead looked a bit confused by his question, because he didn't know Allen had seen what his short sleeved t-shirt concealed.

"Yeah," Lavi said, taking a step closer, somewhat cautiously. "Are you…feeling okay?"

"Yes," Allen replied, tilting his head slightly, confused at the heavy concern.

"Are you sure?" Lavi asked. Allen was going to ask why he wouldn't be all right, but then he vaguely recalled the previous day, when he and Lavi had been at the park….where he'd seen Tiki and remembered…Allen's stomach twisted painfully, like he had eaten something bad as it came rushing back to him at full force.

"Yes," Allen said again, but after a moment too late and in a voice a bit fainter than before. He pushed away the image of Tiki's smile and the _still beating heart in his hand_. "Did I hurt…that guy yesterday?"

"I hope so," Lavi muttered darkly. When Allen looked at him with a somewhat shocked expression, Lavi shook his head. "You barely scratched him." Allen nodded, pulling the blanket around himself. He could still see Tiki's smug face in his mind, the blood on him, and Rabi lying nearby, not moving, his life so unfairly taken…

"Your wrists are bruised," Allen pointed out, to steer his thoughts in another direction. Lavi glanced down, moving his hands into his pockets block Allen's view. However, he could still see the purplish discoloration right above the lip of the fabric.

"Yeah, I fell," he replied.

"Fell?" Allen repeated, disbelief coloring his tone.

"I didn't see a stack of books and I fell in the dark," Lavi said. Allen knew he was lying. Rabi had been good at fooling him, but after years of knowing the boy, Allen had been able to tell when he wasn't telling the truth. He had taken a sort of pride in being able to tell when someone with a Bookman's training was lying. But Lavi was different. His face was like an open book, his motions practically shouting the truths he tried to hide.

"On both wrists?" Allen inquired. Even underneath Lavi's watchband, he could see the injuries.

"Yeah, on both wrists," Lavi said, his eyes flickering downwards with untruth.

"They're new," said Allen.

"It happened last night," Lavi replied, eyes skirting away as if he was ashamed.

"Did you fall on your back, too?" Allen asked. The redhead tried to hide his surprised look, but failed. Not asking how he knew, Lavi continued to attempt to fool Allen.

"Yeah," Lavi said.

"That's impossible," Allen answered. Falling over a stack of books wouldn't give a person those kinds of injuries. He had tripped over enough of Rabi's to know that. The bruises that covered Lavi were different. They were on par with those received from fighting akuma, being flung from a great height, or hit with a heavy object. Or _abuse_. "What happened?"

"I fell, like I said," Lavi replied.

"Why are you lying?" Allen asked, sincerely honest. He'd never given Lavi a reason to lie to him, had he?

"I'm not," Lavi said, his voice giving him away. Green eyes dropped in defeat when he realized that Allen was not fooled. "Sorry…it's just something stupid."

"Someone hurt you," Allen said. Lavi suddenly found the wood of the dresser to be terribly interesting.

"No," he replied, a few seconds too late to be truthful.

"Stop pretending," said Allen, for some reason feeling angry. Lavi glanced at him, appearing as upset as Allen felt.

"Look, just don't think about it," Lavi replied, an edge to his voice that made Allen back down a bit warily for a moment.

"You're hurt," Allen said, as if that explained his reasoning.

"You're hurt, too," said Lavi, walking closer to the bed. Allen didn't protest when he sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled out the first aid kit from the cubby in the bedside table. The redheaded boy looked at him and tugged at the edge of the blanket, which Allen childishly refused to let go. "C'mon, Allen. Let me take care of you—r wounds." Allen saw that Lavi looked embarrassed at his slip. _Let me take care of you_ he almost said and Allen's face felt warm.

"Not until you tell me about what happened," Allen said, nodding his head at Lavi's bruised hands. Lavi made a face and tugged again on the blanket.

"That's not fair. I never asked _you_ what happened," Lavi replied and Allen fell silent. That was the one thing he didn't want to talk about. He didn't think he could ever talk about it: that night when he had lost everything. And Lavi hadn't asked, which Allen was grateful for. Because of that, Allen let Lavi slide the comforter down his shoulders without a word. He looked straight forward at the wall, doing everything in his power to not think about the hands touching him. The hands that reminded him so much of… "You're almost completely healed up."

"Really?" Allen asked, but more out of courtesy in the form of a reply than anything else. Lavi nodded, turning on the light before he gently peeled off the rest of the old bandages.

"Do you want to go take a shower?" Lavi inquired, once all the gauze and tape were gone from Allen's body.

"Yes," Allen replied, as he felt rather grungy and wanted to wash his hair.

"Okay," Lavi said, and got up to lead him into the bathroom. After pulling down a towel and washcloth from the tall cabinet on the wall, Lavi set them on the edge of the sink. "Um, there's shampoo and soap in the shower. If you need anything…just yell, I guess." Without looking at him once, Lavi left, closing the door a little bit harder than necessary behind him.

Allen leaned against the wall and looked at his miserable reflection in the mirror, touching the raised, pink marks on his flesh beneath his open dress shirt. Sighing, Allen got undressed and turned on the hot water, stepping under the spray when it was warm enough. He let the water rush over him, wincing slightly when it stung at his wounds a bit.

"_You heal fast, Allen," Rabi commented. He was sitting before Allen, unwrapping the bandages around the silver haired boy's body. The top few buttons of the redhead's shirt were undone and Allen could see the edge of crimson gauze beneath the fabric. Above the collar, silver eyes traced the bruised right collarbone with guilt._

"_I think it's the Innocence," Allen said, stilling Rabi's hands. They were rough and calloused, his palms wrapped in gauze to cover the healing burns and blisters. As gently as Rabi had touched him, Allen took his lover's battered hands in his and kissed the black and blue knuckles tenderly. His upper lip brushed over the cool metal of the simple ring adorning Rabi's ring finger. "Let me do it. You're still hurt."_

"_Hurt? These are just scratches," Rabi insisted, but Allen made him lie down on the bed again. He did so obediently, with a small frown. _

"_Don't make that face, Rabi," Allen said gently as he unwound the bandages from around his upper arm. "Those are more than just scratches." Tossing the gauze into the trashcan, Allen pulled his shirt back on and laid down next to Rabi. Behind him, Allen could see the dark clouds building, preparing to storm. He brought his hand to Rabi's cheek, being mindful of the bandage close to his jaw. Silver hair fell before his eyes as he shook his head. "You keep going and getting roughed up when you don't have to." _

"_I don't have to?" Rabi repeated, leaning into Allen's hand. The younger boy glanced up to see Rabi's eye closed as he pressed his cheek against his palm. He wore an almost tortured expression. "Allen…you could have gotten hurt."_

"_But I can take it, Rabi," Allen said._

"_But you shouldn't have to," Rabi replied, opening his only eye. A single green orb stared at him with such intensity that Allen felt like Rabi was searching his entire soul. _

"_If it keeps you safe," Allen murmured, moving closer so that their bodies were touching. Rabi was warm and Allen held him, making sure he did so softly enough to not hurt him. "Then I'll do anything."_

"_Allen…"_

"_You mean so much to me, Rabi. I can't…lose you…"_

"_Allen…" _

"_You're my entire world. I love…"_

"Allen…?"

Allen jumped slightly when he heard a soft knocking at the door. It was when he was brought back to reality that Allen realized he was still in the shower, standing beneath the now cold water. Leaning forward to turn up the heat, Allen heard another knock, this one louder than the first one.

"Allen, are you okay in there…?" Lavi asked, sounding worried from the other side.

"I'm fine," Allen replied, soaping up the washcloth quickly. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay, there's some clothes for you on the bed," Lavi said.

"Thank you," he answered, straining his ears to listen to the other boy's footsteps walk away. He couldn't hear him over the water, but Allen gave it a few moments and figured that Lavi had left. The hand holding the washcloth trembled as Allen attempted to shake the memory from his mind. He tried not to remember how it seemed his last few months with Rabi had consisted of seeing his lover more bruised and bloody than pain free. But Rabi had still smiled and still _made love to him_.

Flushing, Allen turned off the water and grabbed his towel, drying off hastily before stepping out. He didn't look at himself in the mirror, opening the door from the bathroom to step into the bedroom. The cool air caressed his damp flesh and Allen trembled, hurrying over to the edge of the bed where there was a pile of warm clothes waiting for him.

After Allen had dressed in comfortable underclothes, a pair of loose pants, and a long sleeved shirt, he hung his towel and turned off the light, walking out into the living room in search of Lavi. He kept his head up high and his eyes as strong as his posture, hoping that he would be able to overcome everything in this strange new world where it was 2008 and Rabi didn't exist.

**pqpq**

Lavi made eggs and toast for breakfast, but Allen couldn't finish his plate. The silver-haired boy didn't understand his lack of appetite. At first, he thought it had something to do with his Innocence that seemed to be dormant inside him. But then Allen had to wonder if it was something more: the stress from a situation where everything and everyone was so familiar and yet so different.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Lavi asked, for about the third time. Allen nodded, for the third time as he drank his orange juice. Green eyes didn't look convinced, but Lavi's attention was drawn elsewhere when Allen heard a soft vibration, almost like a hum, emit from the coat hanging over the kitchen chair. Allen watched with a small bit of interest as Lavi withdrew a small object, flipped the top open, and then looked at it, clicking away on the front of the thing as if it were very important to him. Even still, Allen noticed that his brow was slightly furrowed, as if confused or annoyed.

"What's wrong?" Allen asked, a bit awkwardly. He felt strange asking Lavi about it, something that pertained to his life. The life that was his before Allen came.

"I…have a friend, um, Lenalee," Lavi said, setting the gadget down on the table next to his clean breakfast plate. "You met her, actually. The other day. Short, black hair." Allen nodded that he remembered her, his toast tasting like ash in his throat as he thought of the girl whom she resembled. With that image came the memory of Rinali's crumbled, beaten body on the battlefield, her legs ripped to bloody shreds from the overexertion of her Innocence. In the end, the only way for the Heart to survive was through _sacrifice_.

"She has this gallery," Lavi continued, bringing Allen out of his dark recollections. "And, I dunno, she needs help and…"

"Can't Kanda help?" Allen asked, wondering if this Kanda was like the Kanda he knew. Judging from his short appearance the other day, he was short-tempered and rude just like the Japanese samurai. However, Allen and the Exorcist he had once known had come to a sort of truce around the time of the final battle and had worked harder than ever together, striving toward a single goal. They were actually quite good.

"He…got tied up," Lavi said. The way his voice faltered slightly alerted Allen to the lie, but he didn't press it. "A-And anyway, Lenalee needs some help moving things. So…if you're up to going out again, would you like to come with me?" Allen looked up, a bit shocked at the invitation. After the other day, he had presumed Lavi would never want to take him anywhere ever again, afraid that he would have another episode like he had in the park. But instead, he went out of his way to try to include Allen, as if trying to bring the younger boy into his world with a guiding, gentle hand.

"O-Okay," Allen replied with a nod, his cheeks feeling rather warm as a feeling he couldn't quite identify bloomed in his chest. And Lavi smiled, looking relieved, like he had been expecting much worse from the proposal. Allen shyly smiled back before dropping his eyes. It felt almost traitorous how much he liked Lavi's smile, especially with the cold weight of the ring on his finger. He couldn't forget Rabi—couldn't disgrace him in such a way. But Allen couldn't deny that feeling he experienced within himself. It was the same feeling he had felt upon first meeting Rabi.

It wasn't falling in love, no. 'Falling in love' happened over time. It didn't just occur randomly in time and space. But love did plant its seed and that seed could grow according to the will of the two involved. What they did with it was their own. How they cultivated it would affect them for the rest of their lives. And Allen couldn't help but feel as if something that had been lying dormant within him had suddenly begun to stir, moving and _breathing_ life. Although the ring felt heavy and binding on his finger and even though Allen knew that Rabi was his one and his only and that 'falling in love' was something that was merely sung about in songs, Allen Walker couldn't help but wonder if Lavi was something more than what he seemed.

"That's great," Lavi said, beaming as brightly as the sun. It was not even slightly dimmed by the purple bruises that screamed abuse on his wrists.

And so Allen found himself sailing instead of drowning in the sea of a brave new world.

**pqpq**

Ha, my neighbor is totally reading Adolus Huxley's Brave New World right now.

(English nerd fighter alliance FTW Y/N?)

I hope that you enjoyed. A bit short, but I plan to move this along. My previous guess for this story was about 8 chapters, but we can see that isn't going to happen. I'll probably shoot for 15 instead. Sound nice?

Thanks guys. I'll get something up for you in a few days, after I finish playing with this nifty tablet I'm borrowing from my roommate's boyfriend. –is ADD and is shot-

Love,

**Dhampir72**


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for all your comments and favorites/alerts. It made my day. Sorry for the slow update, but I hope to get back on track now that it's almost summertime! Big thanks to: SincerelyRainbow, Sleeping Moon, Nusku, Chiaki Saruwatari, BlueFox of the Moon, stoneygeek, Darkspider, Aion Laven Walker, twilightserius, JuniorArtist, glon morski, MonElisa, The Hecateae, SharinganJ, NellaXIval, Tsumi no Curse, Fayzee, OyaSUMi-heart, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, whatthehellwasithinkin, NaruHinaforever, Sakurakissy, RoseKurenai, Sazuka-Chan, Xai, asdfasdfg, and everyone else for your favorites and alerts.

**pqpq**

Lavi couldn't believe that Allen had seen as much as he did. Then again, Lavi hadn't expected to bruise so badly from Yuu's abuse. He knew that his ex-boyfriend had partaken in many sports—especially the hands on martial arts—but Lavi had never experienced the full force of that strength inflicted upon himself. After he had mentally gotten himself ready for a day of attempting to hide his sore, stiffness, Allen had seen way too early for his liking, and his poor lying had done nothing to make Allen believe anything he said. At least Allen hadn't found out that Lavi had slept next to him the night prior; that probably would have made the time traveling boy believe him to be some sort of creepy pervert.

But just when he presumed that his day could not possibly worsen, he opened his phone to find several text messages waiting for him: four from Tyki and two from Lenalee. Without even reading Tyki's, Lavi deleted them with a vengeful sort of satisfaction, focusing instead on Lenalee's texts. The first, from yesterday, asked if he was doing alright, as Kanda had come home upset. The second had come early this morning, with Lenalee politely requesting that he come to the gallery to talk to her about "something important."

"So, put your seatbelt on like this," Lavi said, demonstrating a half-hour later when the two of them had gotten dressed and into the parking lot. Allen was wearing his clothes again, which made Lavi take a mental note that they would have to stop by a store on the way back so that Allen could be fitted properly. It would give people the wrong idea if Allen kept showing up in Lavi's own shirts and sweats. Silver eyes looked slightly perplexed as two gloved hands pulled at the nylon strap beside him. That expression turned frustrated when Allen couldn't manage to pull the strap across his body without locking it in place.

"Here, let me do it…" Lavi offered, leaning over the console to pull the seatbelt from its position. "You've got to be gentle." As Lavi explained this, he realized that he and Allen were a breath apart. They were so close that if Lavi would have had all day, he would have been able to count every one of Allen's eyelashes. Fair cheeks colored and Lavi felt some own heat rush to his face when he heard that small voice inside of him whispering against his eardrum tantalizingly: _Kiss him_. "…it's supposed to lock up and hold you inside if you're in an accident." Moving back slightly, Lavi took the buckle in his hand and fitted it into the lock on the seat. "There, see?" Allen nodded and quickly looked away, appearing embarrassed. Lavi himself fiddled with his keys and own seatbelt before finally getting enough of a grip on himself to start the car and get moving.

"Is this thing safe?" Allen asked. Lavi looked up from where he had been pulling out of the parking lot and into the main street, noticing that Allen was clutching the grip on the inside door rather tightly.

"Of course it is," Lavi said, making sure to look several times before continuing on their way. The last thing he needed to add to Allen's already otherwise traumatic experience was to get into a car accident. Allen mutely nodded again and held on for the rest of the ride. His eyes were closed and Lavi couldn't help but be slightly offended. He wasn't that bad of a driver. After all, it wasn't as if he were still sixteen and driving on the sidewalks taking out mailboxes anymore.

**pqpq**

Lenalee's gallery was on "the nice side of town" as people liked to call it. Tall, tall buildings and more traffic awaited them in the heart of the city. Luckily for Lavi, Lenalee's studio came with nearby parking for guests of the residents. He parked his car in the familiar space for GUEST and cut the engine.

"We're here," Lavi said, gathering up all of his things before stepping out. He had to go around the side of the car and open Allen's door for him as well, because the boy from the past couldn't seem to figure out what to do. The silver-haired boy was extremely ashamed of all of this, Lavi could tell, and so the redhead made sure to pretend like it was a normal occurrence so that Allen's level of self-deprecation didn't spiral further downward.

The building was large and spacious with high, industrial ceilings and an abundance of natural light. Lenalee lived upstairs in a suite bedroom above the studio. And when Lavi said suite, he meant _sweet_. It was decked out in (what had to be) expensive Feng Sui style and had the most interesting taste in furniture and art he'd ever seen. When her secretary showed the two men into the room, Lenalee herself was sitting in a circular chair in front of the television, a half-finished canvas beside her. Paint tubes and brushes lay neatly on the table before her booted feet.

"Hey, Lenalee," Lavi said, catching the Oriental girl's attention. She swung around in her chair to look at them and smiled, only secondarily put off by Allen's presence.

"Hey, Lavi," Lenalee replied, a smile gracing her lips. "And hello again, Allen, was it?" Beside him, Allen nodded, but did not speak. It must have been strange for him, Lavi presumed, to be faced with someone he thought he knew over one hundred years ago.

"What's up?" Lavi asked, walking over to the nearby loveseat when Lenalee indicated for the two of them to sit. The secretary emerged almost immediately, bringing tea and cookies to place on the table before them.

"The usual," Lenalee replied, helping herself to a sponge cookie and one of the steaming black cups of black tea. As Lavi passed Allen a cup and took one for himself, Lenalee continued with: "I've been watching the news, too. Did you hear about that statue that was stolen from the museum? Brother has been talking about it all day." Lavi choked right into his tea, coughing as Lenalee turned up the volume on the television set.

"Police still have no leads on the art thieves that made off with a priceless piece of history this past Saturday," said the anchorman, who Lavi realized was Komui Lee, Lenalee's older brother. The dark-haired, bespectacled man continued with a somber expression: "Due to a security malfunction within the Columbus Museum of Art, investigations are beginning to meet dead ends. Reever Wenham has the story." The screen cut to a man with blonde hair standing on the front steps of the museum, looking just as solemn as Komui.

"That's correct. Police have given us absolutely no details pertaining to their scarce investigation," Reever said, his Australian accent quite apparent. "Because there were no eye witnesses at the scene, nor any security cameras, it is unknown how many perpetrators committed this devastating crime. With no leads and no known subjects to search for, the National Historical Society has arranged an emergency meeting with several international affiliates to help them search for the missing statue, in hopes of finding those responsible before the trail runs _stone_ cold. I'm Reever Wenham for Channel 4, Columbus."

"Thank you, Reever," said Komui, turning back to look at the camera. "And in other news, this morning a transatlantic flight from Rome was—"

"Are you all right, Lavi? You look kind of pale," Lenalee said, drawing Lavi back to the present. Lavi reached for a cookie in order to make time, regaining his composure before replying.

"I'm fine. The tea was kind of hot," Lavi answered.

"Ah, I'm sorry!" Lenalee said, her oriental roots making the redhead believe that she truly thought the incident was her fault. Lavi waved it off so she didn't feel badly about it, going back to his tea. "So…Lavi…I did bring you here to…um…talk…" Lenalee ventured, after a moment of the three of them sitting in quiet. Lavi noticed how her eyes strayed to Allen pointedly when she said this. The redhead made a show of drinking the rest of his tea and finishing his cookie, wondering how to proceed with this. His back was killing him, but at least the bruises on his wrists were covered with sweatbands. However, Lavi was still wary. Lenalee was intuitive, that's why she was an artist. It wouldn't take much for her to put pieces together: why Yuu was acting so strangely and Lavi was walking so stiffly.

"Why don't you show us the gallery, hmm?" Lavi proposed, not wanting to talk about what had transpired the night before. Lenalee made an aggravated face, but got up to politely show them out of the room. Taking Allen's hand, Lavi pulled the silver-haired boy along with him, liking the slight flush to his cheeks and the way Allen's hand did not pull out of his.

"_Allen! C'mon! I want to show you something!" Hands pull gently at two mismatched, ungloved ones. Lovingly tugging with excitement and happiness. Pink colors like a watercolor on tan canvas smeared with orange and baby blue. Spring breeze tickling at the chin and lips and tips of hair._

"_What is it, Rabi?" Soft, melodious voice responds behind hands being tugged by two bigger ones with inkstained fingers. Silver hair moves in the wind like a song, reflecting glowing light from the setting sun._

"_You have to see it!" Smiles and warm evening air on a stone balcony where twenty seven identical spires sit atop a metal fence. Around, around a turret on a tower that stretches into the sky above the glowing amber of twilight. And to the top, thirty-three stairs before an indigo blanket upon an expanse of dark, where glistening diamonds twinkle down upon them._

"_It's beautiful!" Pink lips smile like matching tulips in Vienna as arms move around one another. _

"_You're beautiful, Allen." _

"Lavi?" Allen asked, one of his gloved hands tugging on Lavi's, bringing him back to the present time, away from random bits of color and feeling, observation and mathematics. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Lavi said, shaking his head. "Just…zoned out…"

"Are you sure?" Lenalee asked, tilting her head to the side slightly. "You don't look well."

"I'm really okay. I want to see the gallery," said Lavi, and the short haired girl nodded, leading them down winding stairs to the gallery floor. In the wide, open space, beneath beautiful light from high ceilings was Lenalee's gallery. Upon white-painted walls, large canvas paintings hung with precision. All color stood out dramatically against the background, making Lenalee's pictures seem touchable.

"So, I'm doing the Dreams sequence," Lenalee explained, leading them through the maze of paintings. "I figured they were my strongest pieces for an opening. I have some newer work as well, but these…these seem to be the ones that speak to me the most." Lavi looked at the images put forth before him with the same emotion he felt years ago gazing upon them. The series of seven had to be the most powerful thing the redhead had seen.

"This is…" Allen murmured from beside him, his voice lost; an echo in the vaulted ceiling. Before them, dark paintings displayed a place that seemed foreign and yet familiar somehow to Lavi. They all showed world in ruins, remnants of a tower that had collapsed upon itself. Submerged in a pool of blue water, debris jutted out from the surface, as if stretching up towards the huge crescent moon that hung in the sky. Its reflection shone black in the cerulean lake, among the headstones that peaked above the glistening liquid. Surrounding the heavenly body, white trees stood like pale skeletons against an indigo backdrop. But the most striking feature of one of the paintings was the girl who sat atop a pile of rubble. She wore a torn, black dress; long, dark hair whipped around her face in the wind. She was crying. Upon her lap lay a person with no face, bleeding from smiling lips.

"Are you sure these aren't too depressing, Lenalee?" Lavi asked, in a teasing sort of voice. Anything to break how heavy the air had gotten just by looking at the breathtaking pieces of art. She playfully punched him in the arm, but he winced, still hurting from Yuu's abuse the night before. Luckily, she thought he was kidding and crossed her arms.

"I like them very much, thank you," she said. "And I think other people will, too. Come and see the newer ones. They're over here, where there's better light…" As Lenalee's boots clicked against the concrete floor toward her other paintings, Lavi made to follow, only stopping to look behind him when he realized Allen was not following.

"Allen? Want to come with?" he asked. Allen was staring, transfixed on one of the last paintings. Black and white, a boy stood before the lake that had been in the previous canvases. He was kneeling over, looking at the reflection of the white moon shining black on the surface of gray water. The picture was different from the others because of the absence of color, and also the frightening image that stared back at him from the water's edge. Its grin was truly a terrible, terrible one.

"_Rabi…about the Fourteenth." Hands in hands, holding, against soft sheets in the dark. Tulip lips against his skin, his cheek, speak in whispers. Fear, concern colors the tone, like the red rush of dawn outside the window._

"_Don't. You're still you, Allen." Assuring, gentle kisses. Eyelashes fluttering like butterflies against skin, soaked in coming daylight._

"_I'm scared, Rabi...What if—"_

"I…don't like this painting…" said Allen, tilting his head to the side. His brow was furrowed as if he was recalling something painful.

"Yeah," agreed Lavi, his thoughts confused and jumbled at the sudden recollection of senses and conversations he'd never had before. "Let's…go look at other ones, okay?" Allen nodded and Lavi smiled when their hands met, both reaching for one another, as if they were driven by more than muscle and nerves, but by a magnetism that drew them together as something more. It made Lavi wonder: _where have I met you before, Allen?_ Maybe looking like Rabi and acting like him had something more to do with this entire thing than Lavi first thought…

"There you are," said Lenalee, appearing before them. "Thought I lost you there. These are the new ones that I did this past year. You know, when I came back to the States?" They were bright, beautiful works with light brushstrokes and carefree themes. "Please, have a look around." Allen gravitated toward the new maze of artwork, standing before each one with a thoughtful look on his face before moving to the next. Lavi made to go after him, but Lenalee caught his arm. "So…can we talk now?" she asked, appearing troubled.

"About what?" Lavi asked.

"About last night," Lenalee said.

"What happened?" inquired Lavi, playing safe.

"Don't you know?" asked Lenalee.

"Not really," Lavi answered, taking a seat in a comfortable chair that had been set out for guests to relax in. Lenalee took the one opposite to him, sitting on the edge, perched like she might spring for the door at any moment.

"Yuu came home upset," Lenalee explained.

"And?" Lavi prompted, wondering where the girl was going with this. If anything, Yuu should have felt better after nearly beating the shit out of him last night. Except…for what he said at the door…about Tyki…Lavi's brow furrowed when he recalled that expression. Yuu had looked _hurt_.

"Well…we had a fight…something stupid, really…but…" Lenalee said, looking down as she twiddled her thumbs nervously.

"But what?" asked Lavi, curiously.

"Lavi…Yuu and I are getting married soon," Lenalee said; the redhead's heart gave a clench. It wasn't as painful as it had been a few days ago, where the agony could knock him off his feet with the force of such despair. Now, it was merely a twinge with a slight ache that left him hurting dully. Had Lavi moved on, or given up entirely? "I'm just worried…he's not telling me everything."

"Everyone has their secrets," Lavi said.

"But…I just feel like he's hiding something big," Lenalee replied, scooting on the very, very edge of her chair so that she was leaning forward. "So…I was wondering…"

"You want me…to tell you what it is?" Lavi asked. Oh, if Lenalee knew those things he and Yuu had done together, it would have her pulling her hair out in disbelief. _Lenalee can't know_ was the one thing Yuu had said. And although Lavi would have loved to have some revenge, he wasn't scornful, especially after seeing his ex-boyfriend in such a state of almost _torment_ last night. He wouldn't say anything. He would keep his promise. But the pictures would still stay hidden in the back of the closet, whenever he had the strength to move them there.

"You're his best friend," said Lenalee, looking pitiful.

"And it violates man code," replied Lavi, shaking his head. "I can't tell you."

"Please?" asked Lenalee. "You're the only one he talks to, really." And that was a good thing. At least the two of them didn't have that many close friends who would know about their relationship. That made the secret much better kept from Lenalee's prying nature.

"Which means I can't betray his trust," said Lavi.

"B-But, Lavi…" Lenalee argued.

"But nothing, Lenalee," Lavi said, leaning forward in his own chair. He swallowed on something hard and hot that felt like it congealed in his throat as he formed the words he knew he would have to say eventually: "Look, Yuu loves you. That's all that matters." The dark haired girl's eyes widened before softening slightly in a gentle smile.

"Thanks…Lavi…"

"No problem," Lavi answered, giving her a smile that didn't feel as forced as he would have thought.

"O-Oh, where's Allen?" asked Lenalee, looking around as she touched her lips, like she just remembered there had been a third to their party. Lavi stood up quickly, hurrying towards where they had parted, moving through the walls of paintings before angled lights. He found the silver-haired boy sitting on the floor before one placed near the end of the display. Beautiful watercolors showed a perfect sunset on top of _the tower's stone with twenty seven cross spires on top of a metal fence, around a turret that stretched toward the pink sky above the glowing sunset. And atop thirty-three stairs before the expanse of nighttime sky there was…_

"Lavi…that's…"

Two figures in the piece leaned against the edge of the stone tower's railing. Behind them, blended colors of twilight made their bold lines stand out in harsh contrast: a silver-haired androgynous figure standing against the chest of a redheaded male. An orange scarf twined around both their necks in a graceful, ethereal way.

"…it's…" Lavi's breath stopped and for a moment he could have sworn he could feel the sun against his skin and the warmth of another body pressed against him from the front as wind moved through his hair and clothes. Like he had once stood there, with his arms around—

"Us."

**pqpq**

-Promptly dies-

More to come ASAP. Now that midterms are over (finally!)

See you next time!

**Dhampir72**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks a bunch for all your support: **asdfasdfg, BlueFox of the Moon, Nusku, MitarashiiDango, twilightserius, WrathofMugen, Sleeping Moon, Sazuka-Chan, darkangelwings90, NaruHinaforever, Aion Laven Walker, beautiful000enigma, Uzumaki-Angel-15, OyaSUMi-heart, SakuraKissy, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Cute Is What Misty Aims For, reena, glon morski, Ongaku-sama Ey, , NellaXIval, KinKitsune01, xAnimeGirlx3, Darkspider, Chiaki Saruwatari, and everyone else who has added this to their favorites/alerts list!

**And thanks for over 200 reviews!**

**pqpq**

"Please tell me you'll come by opening night," Lenalee said, as Allen walked on legs he felt weren't his own. Her voice melted into mere background noise as she continued to speak to Lavi, and Allen stared forward at the cold, industrial walls of the warehouse called Lenalee Lee's gallery. What he had just seen was incredible, although disconcerting. Beautiful images had reflected back to him the things he had experienced together with Rabi. Dark canvases displayed events only seen in his nightmares; the things that Rinali had whispered to him on long train rides in the dark as she cried softly in fear, tears clinging to her black lashes. Those dreams that they had shared together through the Innocence that bound them had been painted with perfection upon canvas. How had Lenalee known? That was all Allen could wonder as he and Lavi returned to the concrete building that held the redhead's carriage contraption. He didn't even realize he was inside until the automobile began moving.

"Are you all right, Allen?" Lavi asked, his concerned tone sounding like he was underwater. Or perhaps Allen was underwater, as his mind was murky and slow with thought, sluggish with memory.

"Fine," he heard himself say. Outside the windows, gray streets passed. People in winter clothing hurried by in blurs as red, yellow, and green lights melded into a string of color.

"Are you sure?" Lavi asked. There was a _tick, tick, tick_ sound that echoed in the car; out of the corner of his eye, Allen could see a small light blinking in front of Lavi's wheel. He looked only at the light, not wanting to glance up the tiniest fraction of an inch to see the redhead's face. Not at a time like this, when he felt so confused and wrong, desperately wishing that Rabi was there with him at that moment, at the top of the Black Order, watching the sunset. But instead, he was driving down cold, dreary streets with a boy who wore Rabi's face. Looking at Lavi would be too much to bear at that moment.

"Yes," said Allen.

"Are you fine enough to go shopping?" Lavi inquired, turning back to look at the road as the car began moving again.

"Shopping," repeated Allen, the word sounding jumbled on his tongue.

"Yeah. We need some food. And some clothes for you, because mine don't fit you right," explained Lavi. "But if you don't feel up to it, we can go home."

"I'm fine," Allen said again. "Let's go."

From the heart of the city, they drove west towards a place Lavi called Dublin. Allen continued to look out of his foggy window, not even startling when other cars and massive trucks passed them on the busy highway. He watched as green signs passed over their heads and large signs with yellow arrows pointed them in certain directions. Tall buildings rose up behind them in the mirror and Allen watched as they faded out of sight.

"We can't go anywhere really expensive," Lavi said, once the silence had lasted for too long. "I'm in grad school, like I said before, so money's kind of tight. But this place is pretty good. You can grab some clothes and we'll get groceries on the way back." They pulled off the road and drove for a little ways, until they were in a lot full of the same machines Lavi owned. He parked in an empty space between a black and a silver car. On Allen's side, he saw the brick building and a glowing sign that hung above the entrance with a red target on it. "We're here."

"Okay," Allen said, attempting to get out of the safety equipment he couldn't remember putting on in the first place. Lavi leaned over the console and unbuckled it for him, leaning across Allen's body to open the door for him. The silver-haired boy hated his traitorous observation of how _good_ Lavi smelled.

"The selection's pretty decent here," Lavi said as they entered the store. "You're bound to find something." It was bright inside and there were people everywhere shopping with metal carts or hand baskets. Something smelled like butter mixed with salt and Allen felt slightly nauseous, but after they cleared away from the doors and the small snack area, he didn't experience such sickness. "It's really packed because Christmas is coming up next month. I guess we're going to have to get in and out quickly…"

"Christmas?" Allen asked, excitement absent from his voice. Christmas would never be the same for him as it had been, when everyone in the Order gathered to put up that giant evergreen. They spent one whole day decorating, cooking, laughing as they threaded strings of popcorn to use as garlands. Rabi was always in charge lights and Allen could remember how he grumbled to himself for a few good hours as he untangled the mess. But then it would all come together in one celebration, where everyone gathered and ate together, drank bitter-smelling wine from long glasses, and sat before the tree as they enjoyed company. And then after that, when he and Rabi had said good night and gone upstairs, the redhead would always whisper _Happy birthday_, _Allen_ after they made love.

"Yeah, soonish, actually," replied Lavi, bringing Allen back to the present, where his feet were walking on shiny, linoleum floors. "After Thanksgiving, though, things are really going to get crazy…" In the back, there was a section of clothing specifically for men and Lavi changed the subject: "Go ahead and pick out whatever you'd like." He smiled reassuringly at Allen, who just nodded and wandered around through the racks. Never before had he been able to choose his clothes, forced to wear whatever had been given. It was harder than he imagined, selecting things that he liked. In the end, Allen ended up choosing outfits similar to those Rabi had worn: long sleeved shirts in natural colors with low, rounded collars and pants that were comfortable in shades of brown and tan.

Nearby, Lavi was busily punching away at the small keys on his hand-held communication device. He looked bothered by something, so Allen didn't pursue his opinion. Instead, he found a place called a 'fitting room' where he could try the clothes on, receiving a small, plastic number from a girl at a nearby desk. Her eyes were wide and staring, locked upon the scar that marred the left side of his face. Embarrassed, Allen hurried to the nearest stall, slamming the door closed behind him with panting, shaky breaths.

"_Rabi…" Allen said, capturing his lover's attention from whatever volume he was immersed in. The redhead looked up at him curiously, moving from the desk to the bed where Allen was sitting. _

"_What's up?" he asked, resting his arms on Allen's raised knees so that they were face to face. _

"_Do…" Allen's eyes moved to the side. "Does my scar bother you?" Rabi tilted his head slightly against Allen's knee, his brow furrowing._

"_Why would it?" he asked, true sincerity in his tone. Allen shied away from it, turning the left side of his face away from Rabi's green stare._

"_It's ugly," said Allen, barely above a whisper. _

"_No it's not," Rabi answered, his warm fingertips touching Allen's chin to turn him face forward again. He was met with a kind expression: the small smiles that Rabi reserved only for him and no one else. "Nothing about you is ugly to me, Allen. And nothing ever will be." _

Allen sat on the rough, green carpet in the gray stall, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He looked frightened and pale and so _ugly_ that he could hardly stand it. Fists clenched, Allen resisted his urge to punch the glass before him. Instead, he clutched at his chest. Rabi was gone. Gone forever, never to tell him that he was beautiful and _loved_ ever again. Footsteps outside distracted him and he quickly stood up, taking the clothes off their hangers to make noise so that the person entering would not get suspicious.

"Allen? Are you in here?" asked Lavi.

"Yeah," said Allen, hating the way his voice quavered slightly towards the end.

"Okay, I'll be outside if you…need anything," answered Lavi, sounding slightly different himself. Allen didn't reply, hurrying to try on the clothes he selected. Only a few of them fit, as he wasn't able to judge the size measurements on all of them correctly. Standing before the mirror, Allen stared at his reflection for a long time. He barely looked like himself, so modern and foreign; it scared him somewhat. Quickly, Allen changed out of the garments and slipped on Lavi's borrowed clothes, feeling a bit safer as he gathered the articles that fit him in one arm and those that didn't over the other. Just as he was exiting the section, Allen stopped upon hearing Lavi's voice issuing from a nearby stall. He was talking in a hushed whisper, as if seeking privacy to speak of something secret.

"But...for God's sake, you know I wouldn't—"

His voice cut out, giving way to tense silence. Allen lingered nearby, holding still so he didn't alert Lavi of his presence.

"It's a lie," said Lavi, a hard edge to his voice. "I don't _cheat_. After all the years we've known each other, I would have thought you'd know that by now."

Another, uneasy silence. If Allen strained his ears, he could detect another, softer voice speaking to Lavi through a far away connection. He must have been speaking on the device Lavi called a "cell phone".

"But I _didn't_, that's just it," Lavi said earnestly. "He _lied_, Yuu."

Quiet once more, until Lavi got up and Allen heard him pacing, his shoes scraping against the coarse carpeting.

"I never would and I never did," Lavi declared, his feet stopping.

A thoughtful pause.

"No, I don't think that's a good idea."

Lavi's left foot scuffed against the floor.

"Look, just…things worked out that way…it's useless to think about how it could have been," answered Lavi, only the smallest sort of pain pinching his voice. "It's…fine. I hope…I want you and Lenalee to be happy."

A long, long silence followed. Allen could have sworn he heard Lavi crying quietly.

"Yeah, look, I've gotta go," he said thickly. "I'll see you and Lenalee on Thanksgiving. Gramps' place like usual, okay?" Lavi laughed softly at something said, although it sounded slightly strangled. "Don't be an asshole. See you later...Yuu…" Allen heard the phone close and then a tired sigh. Something clattered to the ground as Lavi sat down inside the fitting room booth. Allen stood there for a long time, unmoving so that he could listen. It was as if he could feel every shuddering breath Lavi took; like he was experiencing the same pain the boy on the other side of the door felt at that moment. It was the same pain felt when you lost something precious to you.

To give Lavi privacy, Allen hurried past with light footsteps. He gave the unfitted clothes to the girl behind the desk. When she began staring at his scar again, Allen hurried to give her the plastic number before escaping, hiding in the corner near a rack of belts. Patiently, he sat there, holding his clothes with his eyes taking in the patterns of the fabric, mesmerizing him into quiet contemplation.

"There you are," came Lavi's voice from behind him a few minutes later. Allen turned to look over his shoulder at the man. His eyes were a little glassy and sad, but he was smiling. "I've been looking for you. Did you find anything you liked?" Allen nodded, indicating the clothes resting on his lap. "That's good. Do they fit?" Another silent nod and the silver-haired boy watched as Lavi's brow furrowed slightly. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been acting weird ever since the gallery this afternoon."

"I'm fine, like I said," Allen replied, although unconvincingly so. To cover for himself, he added without thinking: "I wasn't the one crying." He felt badly about it the moment he said it, but Lavi didn't anger at these words. Instead, he smiled in a lonely manner and sat down on the bench next to Allen.

"I was crying," he confirmed with a nod. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at his hands momentarily before meeting Allen's eyes again. "Because I was sad."

"Kanda," Allen stated.

"Yes," Lavi replied, moving his thumbs in a circular pattern. "I was sad because we had a misunderstanding. And that lead to a lot of bad things that never would have happened if that one thing hadn't occurred. But…" Lavi paused to swallow. "…but it did. Yuu found Lenalee and he's happy. That's all that matters." Allen knew he was prying into a raw wound, that much was obvious by Lavi's expression, but he couldn't help himself.

"You got hurt," said Allen.

"I did," replied Lavi.

"Are you mad?" Allen asked. If there was one thing he could never forget, it was the rage he felt—and still felt—for Tiki's abominable act.

"No," Lavi said, shaking his head. "I'm not mad anymore."

"Did you…" Allen paused, debating on whether or not to ask. It was getting too personal, but Allen couldn't quell his curiosity, recalling the dark bruises that marred Lavi's flesh. "Did you love him?" Lavi's green eyes dropped to his hands again, a reminiscing smile upon his lips.

"Yes. I did," he answered, raising his gaze after a long moment of thought. "But that's over now. I did love him and he loved me, but…it's in the past. We missed our chance and there's no going back." Allen's eyes felt itchy at that statement. _We missed our chance, didn't we, Rabi?_

"So what now?" Allen asked. "What do you do now?" In a similar situation himself, Allen waited with anxious breath.

"I…don't know," Lavi replied honestly, shrugging.

"We're both…lost, then. Aren't we?" Allen inquired. To his surprise, Lavi smiled and let loose a small laugh.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said, standing up. "But I've got just the thing for that, c'mon." Allen smiled shyly as he took the proffered hand. It was becoming so easy to do: sliding his palm against Lavi's, feeling their fingers intertwine. That emotion he'd experienced before colored with disloyal thoughts was barely present now. The ring on his finger didn't burn with infidelity any longer; it merely tingled with the love for Rabi he could never forget.

Everything was in the past, even though their impacts would never leave. Lost and searching, the two of them had wandered and hurt. But hand-in-hand, Allen wondered if maybe, just maybe, there were such things as second chances.

**pqpq**

They arrived at Lavi's apartment sometime in the early evening. It was dark and flurrying when they hurried up the few flights of stairs to Lavi's flat. Inside, warmth assaulted them and Allen breathed out a sigh of relief through cold lips.

"Cold?" Lavi asked, pulling off his jacket to hang on a rickety looking coat rack.

"A little," Allen replied, his teeth nearly chattering. It was strange for him to feel so, as his Innocence normally kept his body running at a warmer temperature. However, it seemed as if his left arm was in a state of dormancy, leaving Allen without his usual warmth or hunger.

"Come here and sit by the heater," Lavi said, indicating Allen to come over near a vent on the floor. He pulled a chair next to it so that Allen could sit and warm up while the redhead busied himself with something in the kitchen for a moment or two, before declaring: "And drink this, too." A grayish purple mug was placed into his hands, warm and filled to the brim with a frothy, freshly-made tea.

"Thank you," Allen said, accepting it. Their fingertips brushed pleasantly.

"You're welcome," Lavi said, smiling as he went back to unpacking the groceries they had picked up on the way home. "Um, what do you want for dinner? Anything in particular?" he asked.

"Not really," Allen answered, taking a sip of his tea. It was so hot that Allen could feel the warmth moving through his body at a rapid rate, chasing away the chill that had settled into his flesh and bones. It felt good; as good as Lavi's hand had felt against his.

"Spaghetti okay then?" Lavi asked, unloading fresh vegetables into the refrigerator.

"That's fine," Allen replied, turning a bit in his chair. "Do you need any help?"

"Hmm," Lavi said, putting a carton of milk into the side shelf. "If you want to help with the salad, that'd be great." Allen nodded, hopping down off the stool that Lavi had pulled out for him. Replacing it where it had been beside the bar, Allen reentered the kitchen where Lavi was pulling out salad and vegetables, knives and cutting boards. On the stove, he had a pot filled with water that he was attempting to boil. Another pan stood nearby, heating up a red sauce.

"What do you want me to do?" Allen asked.

"Well, let's start by washing this and then cutting up those…" Lavi said, Allen falling into work with him at a comfortable pace. Together, the two of them created a wonderful meal. They chose to eat on the sofa where Lavi explained to Allen the workings of the strange box called a television. During this lesson, they watched a program on what Lavi referred to as the Discovery channel. It was an interesting show about Egypt, showing vast deserts and golden pyramids against a periwinkle sky.

"Have you ever been there?" Lavi asked, indicating to the television screen.

"No," Allen replied, shaking his head. He had never been fortunate to tag along on the trips Rabi and Bookman frequently took to the African country.

"One day you should," Lavi said. "It's amazing there. Hot, but amazing."

"You've been there?" Allen asked.

"A few times with my grandfather," Lavi replied with a shrug, taking their empty salad dishes into the kitchen. While Allen continued to make his way through his enormous bowl of spaghetti, Lavi reentered the room, carrying with him two glasses and a long, green bottle. "Care for a drink?" Allen flushed and looked down.

"I don't…drink," Allen answered, recalling the painful memories of his Master in a continuous drunken state. Lavi looked apologetic, setting one glass down on the cluttered mantle.

"Don't mind if I do, do you?" Lavi asked, pouring himself a liberal amount.

"No, go ahead," Allen said. From where he sat, he could smell the richness of the wine. It made his head feel light.

"Thanks," Lavi answered, corking the bottle as he sat down to the rest of his meal. "Ever since I've been legal, I've been getting wine. It's really good for your blood, you know." Rabi had said the same thing, once upon a time ago and Allen nodded.

"I just don't like the way it makes people act," Allen said.

"That's just people who abuse it," Lavi replied, setting his glass down on the coffee table. Allen didn't comment further, finishing up his meal. Lavi did as well and the two of them moved off the couch towards the kitchen to clean up. The redhead stowed the bottle of wine away back in the fridge and replaced the unused glass back in the cabinet. Still nursing his own share, Lavi began to clear up the mess that had been left. Allen straightened up the best he could, but left Lavi to use the massive machine-like thing next to the sink, unsure of what exactly its primary function was. Instead of watching Lavi load the contraption with dishes and rather than sit there to merely admire the shape of Lavi's lean backside, Allen instead focused on the half-empty glass of wine on the counter top.

"Go ahead and have a try," Lavi said, when he was through enough to observe Allen's trance-like state.

"N-No, I'm fine," Allen insisted. Lavi smiled, closing the door on the machine, where it began to make a soft humming noise. From there, he went over to the fridge and pulled out a round of cheese. When he unfolded it from its package, Allen felt his mouth water. It smelled absolutely incredible.

"Just a little?" Lavi asked, cutting off a bite-sized chunk of the cheese. He held it in between his thumb and forefinger. "It'll taste good, I promise." Mutely, Allen nodded, his cheeks rather warm. "Good! Now close your eyes." Allen hesitantly did so, listening to every movement of Lavi's feet against the wood floor, the rustle of his clothes, the soft brush of his hair against his shoulders. "This is what they did to us in Venice when we didn't want to try wine either. So, open your mouth." Blushingly, Allen obliged. A salty smooth, wonderful taste assaulted his tongue. "Don't swallow. Let your mouth get all the taste of it." Allen did so, feeling the exotic cheese in his mouth and the way it sent him almost tingling with the mere taste of it. "Okay, now chew it slowly. Savor it." And savor it he did. The cheese itself was wonderful on the outside, but the explosion of flavor that he taste upon chewing nearly made him moan.

"Wow. What kind of cheese is that?" Allen asked, not opening his eyes just yet, his tongue darting around his mouth in search of more of the taste that had left him lusting for more.

"Mozzarella," Lavi replied. "It's a common Italian cheese, but this one's been salted and matured a little." His footsteps moved away and then returned, bringing with them the bitter smell of wine. "Now try it with some wine. Take a small sip and let it sit in your mouth a minute. Let it soak in before swallowing." Allen accepted the glass and took a sip, letting the liquid flood his mouth. His senses soared. Never before could he believe that a simple beverage could have so many levels of taste: bitterness, sweetness, a bit of sourness, but also a tang. It was so incredible he didn't want to swallow, but Allen did, feeling the alcohol burn his throat pleasantly.

"Amazing…" Allen said, opening his eyes. Everything seemed a bit brighter and he squinted a little.

"Told you," said Lavi, smiling. "It's only bad if you abuse it. Otherwise, it's very good, don't you agree?" Allen nodded, feeling very cheerful. He wasn't drunk, he knew, because it was impossible to be so after one sip. But the alcohol had put him into a less anxious mood with its relaxing properties and Allen was determined to enjoy the rest of the night.

In the end, he and Lavi ended up sharing the rest of the glass, lounging on the comfortable couch in front of the television. They watched some special about ancient Mayan ruins on the same channel. Allen was fascinated, never knowing such fantastic structures existed in the world beyond Eurasia. In the middle of the explanation of the Mayan calendar and the events it predicted in relation to the stars, Lavi's cellular rang, vibrating the entire sofa. Pulling it out of his back pocket, Lavi looked at the front of the phone for a moment, made a face, and tossed it onto the coffee table carelessly.

"Who was it?" Allen asked, when the program took a break in order to show advertisements to viewers.

"No one I want to talk to," Lavi said, sounding sulky as he pulled the blanket down from the top of the couch. He moved it around his shoulders, propping his heels up on the messy table in front of them to get comfortably situated. Then Lavi looked at Allen and lifted up the edge, offering some of it to him in a gesture of kindness. The silver-haired boy took this opportunity to move closer to Lavi, his heart beating so fast and hard he could hear it in his ears. The redhead's arm was behind Allen's back, bent at the elbow so that it was almost like Lavi was holding him. Allen was not bothered by this, smiling contently as he leaned back into the half embrace. After a few moments, Allen's heart had calmed considerably and he was resting against Lavi's side with his head against the taller man's shoulder. On some level, Allen knew it should have felt wrong, but it _didn't. _It felt so natural to be resting against Lavi like he was; enjoying the warmth and safety that another body against his provided.

"_Allen~! Allen, wake up," whispered a voice in his ear. Allen burrowed deeper beneath the blankets, not relinquishing his hold on the warm arm wrapped around him. A laugh stirred his hair, sending a small shiver running through his body. "Allen, you need to wake up." _

"_Dunwanna," Allen protested, scooting closer to the redhead beside him, intertwining their legs so that Rabi couldn't escape. Fingertips moved through his hair before tracing his jaw line, finally ending to brush against his lips. _

"_But, Allen…" Rabi murmured, his eyelashes tickling Allen's cheek. "I wanna be naughty~" Allen smiled as Rabi kissed him, moving closer so that their bare skin could touch beneath the sheets. Already, Allen could feel Rabi's arousal that pressed hard against his stomach, his body responding in kind, trembling at the thought of spontaneous morning sex with his lover. _

"_Then let's…" Allen began, smiling with a little more deviousness than before as he put his lover beneath him, opening his eyes _to find a pair of hazy green orbs staring back at him.

"Allen?" Lavi asked, sounding a bit unsure. His lower lip was slightly red, like Rabi's always ended up after the two of them had kissed for an extended period of time. Allen blinked in confusion, his breaths coming quicker as he became more awake and aware. He must have fallen asleep on the couch and then Lavi had brought him into the bedroom, because the two of them were on top of the redhead's bed. Allen was straddling Lavi and he hurried to move away, blushing in horror to find that his own pants were tight with an apparent erection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Allen said, his head spinning with embarrassed confusion. Was it the wine that had affected him so? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" He wasn't even sure who he was saying it to: Lavi who sat before him or Rabi who was somewhere in the Other World, most likely crying because of Allen's misguided actions. The thought of his lover weeping in pain made Allen want to sob with sorrow. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Rabi…I'm sorry…" he murmured, fighting tears as he sank to his knees on the ground.

"Allen…" said Lavi, moving closer to him, his expression terribly apologetic. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Allen. I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, no," Allen cut him off, shaking his head. "It was me. It was me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, Rabi, I didn't mean t—" Lips pressed against his, cutting off his words. Allen didn't fight, his mind blanking momentarily. Lavi was kissing him and in that span of time, Allen felt no anger or fear or worry. The only thing he experienced was the warmth and gentleness of Lavi's kiss.

"_Allen. I'm home." _Rabi's voice spoke gently within his mind, caressing his troubled thoughts into nothing but air. His voice was something from a memory, but the presence felt within himself at the moment was nothing Allen had ever experienced before. Rabi was alive inside him, against his lips, kissing him like he always had upon returning from a mission. That sweet, gentle, loving kiss Allen craved the days Rabi was gone. It was there now in Lavi's gesture. _"Kiss me back, Allen."_

And Allen did.

**pqpq**

Huuur. Well, now that things are moving along…

Everything to be explained very soon, as the ending of this story draws nearer!

Thanks for your readership! Much love, everyone!

**Dhampir72**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the awesome support, guys. Sorry this took so long. I keep getting ill for some reason, which is slowing down the progress on a lot of stuff recently. I'll do my best to heal up and update as often as possible in the summer! Much love to: NaruHinaforever, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Nusku, darkxwolfxdemon, asdfasdfg, Shina-Chan, glon morski, OyaSUMi-heart, BlueFox of the Moon, knux33, Sungoddess64, Tsumi no Curse, I'm Defective, Aion Laven Walker, twilightserius, whisperypath, MitarashiiDango, reena, -Aeius-, NellaXIval, Sazuka-Chan, stoneygeek, KinKitsune01, whatthehellwasithinkin, SakuraKissy, Chiaki Saruwatari, TheTwisted, fotoshop-cutout, MonElisa, and everyone else who has added me to their favorites/alerts list.

**pqpq**

Lavi should have known better.

He should have known better than to invite the cuddling, the gentle touches between them, the sensual taste of red wine. He and Allen were jilted lovers: one by war, the other by proxy. They were sensitive, wanting, and Lavi should have _known_ better. When Allen had fallen asleep, he should have brought him to bed and that should have been the end of it. But the redhead was curious by nature. Too curious. He couldn't help himself; couldn't still the fingertips that so wondrously explored the smooth lines of Allen's nose and jaw, the softness of his lips. Maybe, just maybe, if Lavi hadn't done that, he wouldn't have been in the situation he was in. But then again, if Lavi hadn't done that, he wouldn't have been on the receiving end of one of the most amazing kisses he'd ever experienced in his life. Allen kissed him with such _hunger_, a passion of such intensity that Lavi had never felt with Yuu before. It left him hot, panting, and _craving_ more. Allen pressed against him, leaning over him in the moonlit room with his eyes dark and…far away.

"Allen?" he asked, with kiss-bruised lips. His heart sank dramatically at the sight of Allen's hazy gaze, syrupy with memory instead of present reality. Was it even his lips Allen had been kissing with such wild abandon moments before? Within a few seconds of saying his name, Lavi saw the transformation, where Allen's expression went from contently blank to horror-stricken. He felt heat rush to his own face when Allen flushed with embarrassment, jumping back and trying to hide the evidence of his arousal.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Allen said, holding his hands to his face, gripping at his hair with two mismatched hands as he repeated himself over and over again: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Lavi didn't know what to do, sensing it was not wise to near Allen when he was in such a state, but at the same time wanting nothing more than to go hold him in his arms. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry, Rabi…I'm sorry…" Lavi's heart felt like it was breaking to pieces as he watched Allen sink down to the ground in a small heap, looking so ashamed of himself and his actions.

"Allen…" Lavi said quietly, moving off the bed to get closer to the boy, who was rocking back and forth like a frightened child. He couldn't touch him, no matter how badly he yearned to reach forward and place a comforting hand on one of those shaking shoulders. Unintentionally, he'd hurt Allen. He'd hurt Allen into believing something that was untrue. Lavi was not Rabi, no matter how much he wished he _could_ be sometimes. Although, he had to admit that there was something inside of him that had blossomed into fruition: he would do nything to make Allen him happy; anything to see him smile. The redhead did not know where this compulsion came from, but he knew that he had to apologize for the wrong he had committed on such a whim: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Allen. I didn't mean to—"

"No, no, no," Allen cut him off, shaking his head. "It was me. It was me." Allen held himself as he continued to rock backwards and forwards, every motion like a knife wedging itself deeper and deeper into chest. Something inside of him felt like it was breaking at the amount of pain he'd caused Allen. _Kiss him again_ urged that presence inside of him. _Let _me_ kiss him again _said his redheaded reflection, pleading with one solitary green eye.

_I can't hurt him again_ Lavi insisted, resisting the will inside him. _I won't be the one to make Allen cry_.

_Then let me kiss him_.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, Rabi, I didn't mean t—" Lavi knew it was wrong, he knew it, he knew it, but he could not quell that urge within him and pressed his lips against Allen's, stopping his words. Allen didn't fight and Lavi felt relief flood through his body. Rightness; content feelings he'd never known before now. A sigh like _finally_ against his psyche, a vision of _sunshine and white curtains where Allen was smiling at him shyly, lovingly from beneath the bed sheets. _As Allen's hands gripped at his shirt when Lavi pressed the smaller boy down onto the carpet beneath them, the redhead knew they had to stop. His fingers were deftly undoing the buttons of Allen's shirt without his consent and no matter how much he tried to stop himself, he could not. It was almost as if he were locked in a room inside himself, no longer in control of his actions, his lips, his tongue.

"Rabi…" Allen murmured against the lips that were not his own anymore. Gray eyes looked up at him in the dark, like liquid pools of precious mercury. Slants of moonlight fell across the floor from the cracked blinds, casting the silky white of his hair in a soft glow. He was beautiful, even more so when he smiled tearfully, fingers caressing Lavi's jaw in such a way that it sent a shiver to his very core. "…you're…"

"_Here_."

**pqpq**

When Lavi awoke, it was to a bright, Tuesday morning. Golden sunlight lit the room and the redhead hid from it, burying his way deeper beneath his blankets to escape the rays. In the apartment next door, he could hear the sound of a hairdryer, the drone of the news from the television. Outside, traffic was already picking up. His internal clock told him that he should already be awake, at the university where his thesis was waiting impatiently for him. But Lavi instead was in bed, curled up under the sheets like he had nowhere to be for the rest of the day. Beside him, there was a slight dip to the mattress, another warm body resting against the length of his. In his sleepy state, Lavi smiled, believing it to be Yuu. However, when he opened his eyes, he was not met with the sleeping face of his ex-boyfriend. Instead of the raven locks he had been expecting, messy silver strands filled his vision. Dark lashes against fair cheeks, two pink lips parted in gentle rest, and that scar…

_Oh, shit_, Lavi thought, his breaths stilling as his body stiffened. His mind woke rapidly, assessing the current situation. He and Allen were in bed, tangled amongst the sheets, and, yes, they were naked.

_Oh, shitfuck_, Lavi amended in his head, eyes wide with fear and confusion. What had happened last night? Despite the amazing capacity his brain possessed, Lavi found no information of what had transpired the night prior. Somehow, he and Allen had gotten into bed together, gotten naked, and then…Lavi's face heated up with embarrassment and shame. He and Allen had…had sex and, not only did Lavi take advantage of Allen, he couldn't remember _anything_ about it.

_Oh, shitfuckdamn_, Lavi cursed himself, gripping at his hair, wondering if he ran away now, would he ever escape his guilt? He was spared from having to ponder this too long, the shrill sound of his house phone ringing with painful clarity in the quiet house. Beside him, Allen shot up in bed, looking around in a panic. But when he realized that there was no danger, his eyes turned to look at Lavi. Like a deer in headlights, the redhead couldn't move an inch, or breathe, or do anything at all. The phone rang again, but Lavi did not reach to answer it, his heart hammering unhealthily fast in his chest as he watched Allen's reaction. It turned from confused, to angry, to embarrassed, and then finally to shameful.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Lavi tried to say, but his lips moved without sound so that his apology went unheard. The phone rang a third time. Lavi was too busy staring at Allen, the upper half of his body where fresh scars that had been gaping wounds days before were healing over. But his eyes ultimately focused upon his neck that covered in love bites and bruises that he couldn't remember inflicting. "I—Allen, I didn't…" his voice came out weak and pitiful, trembling slightly as Allen turned his back to him, getting out of bed and hurrying into the bathroom. The door slammed so loudly, Lavi felt it shake the mattress, but he paid no heed to this, staring blankly at the place where Allen had been seconds before.

"_Hey, this is Lavi. I'm not in right now, so do your thing at the beep_," said his answering machine, picking up the call when he couldn't. Within a second of the tone, a woman's voice sounded: "Hey, Lavi. It's Lou Fa. I'm just wondering if you're okay…we haven't seen or heard from you since Saturday. Tyki's come around a few times looking for you. Man, can you believe his nose his broken? I don't know what happened because he wouldn't tell me, but he seemed like he really needed to talk to you. Shifu and Reiki say hi, by the way—_shut up, guys_—and department chairman Bak wanted me to tell you that if you don't send in your proposal by winter intercession, he's going to kick you out. So, Lavi, really do your work, okay? If you want me to, I'll come and bring you some soup. I'm good at making soup, like chicken noo—" The tape finally cut off his co-worker's chatter, leaving the apartment in bitter, uneasy silence.

Lavi sat up and strained his ears, hoping to hear something from the bathroom, but it was eerily quiet. With a self-deprecating sigh, Lavi looked over at the nightstand, where an open bottle of lubricant sat. Angrily, he snapped the lid shut and threw it into the drawer loudly, moving to put his head into his hands. He wished there was a way to fix what he had done: go back in time and undo everything that had happened. But there was no such thing and Lavi was left with his mistakes and Allen's bitter opinion of him.

Getting up out of bed, Lavi quickly donned underwear and a pair of sweatpants. As he passed in front of the mirror, Lavi caught sight of his reflection and grimaced. Yuu's abuse stood out in sharp contrast with his fair skin. Dark blue and purple marks marred his back, his wrists in a similar shade. On his shoulders, though, Lavi saw new markings. Red, welt-like scratches had appeared upon his shoulders, as if someone had been _gripping on to him, digging nails into the soft flesh as a sweet voice moaned 'Rabi, Rabi…!' over and over with hot breaths against his chest_.

Stiffly and with angry, jerking motions, Lavi pulled on a long sleeved shirt to cover up the evidence of the past few days, swallowing thickly as he stood there, clueless and more afraid than he'd ever been in his life. Lavi had always been responsible—always. He had never let something like this happen to him before, where he woke up next to someone he couldn't remember sleeping with. And out of all the people it had to be, it had to be _Allen_.

"Sorry" would never be enough.

Aggravated with himself, Lavi left and went to pace in the living room. In such a state, he actually began organizing things, anything to calm himself down. His mind was a flutter of activity; guilty feelings like a bat that frantically flapped around in a room it could not escape. In the process of clearing off the coffee table, Lavi found his phone. 15 unread messages, 4 missed calls. Without reading any of the texts or listening to the voicemails, Lavi deposited the cellular on the counter and plugged it in to charge it. Instead, remorseful hands washed the empty wine glasses from the night prior, straightened the couch, and placed the books upon their shelves. The _End of Days_ sat at the bottom of the pile on the coffee table, staring up at him with some sort of mocking that hurt his very soul. Angrily, Lavi snapped the book shut and shoved it carelessly behind his collection of National Geographic magazines on the bottom shelf of the bookcase.

Next to the television sat the box of memories Lavi could not bear to part with. The broken frame holding his and Yuu's smiling faces was on top. Biting the inside of his lip, Lavi turned the picture over and picked up the box. He had a small storage closet by the door where he kept his winter coats, some luggage, and a few plastic cartons of memorabilia from years passed. After moving a large suitcase, Lavi folded the lips of the box down and then shoved it into the back of the closet. Replacing everything so that it was in some semblance of order, Lavi closed the door with a finalizing click, his hand trembling ever-so-slightly on the cool knob. But after a moment, he collected himself and walked back into the living room, not wanting to think about the long-gone past, the perplexing present, or the uncertain future.

From the bedroom, Lavi heard the shower start up and the gentle sound of water splashing in the tub. He breathed an uneasy sigh, securing the bags from their shopping excursion last night. Pulling out the articles of clothing he'd purchased for Allen, Lavi methodically folded the shirts and pants so that they weren't creased or wrinkled. Then he went and placed them outside the door of the bathroom. Quietly, he stripped the bed and placed the comforter back over the mattress so that it was neat, taking the remaining bundle of sheets to put in the laundry basket. Defeated, Lavi picked up the basket and brought it out into the clean living room, grabbing some soap and dryer sheets from his utility closet. He was in the middle of counting out the correct amount of quarters he'd need for the Laundromat when there was a soft knock at his door. With silent footsteps, Lavi went over to the door and peered through the peephole. A dark gaze met him from the other side and Lavi held his breath. This wasn't something he could deal with right now.

"I know you're in there, Lavi," said Yuu. "I can see your feet on the other side of the door." Lavi made a tortured face, realizing that he had no choice but to face the man out in the hallway. With agonizing slowness, he unlocked the door, sliding the bolt undone, removing the chain. The door opened with a small creak, revealing his dark-haired ex-lover. His presence that had inspired nothing but yearning in him only a few days ago now made Lavi feel nothing at all. What had happened to him since Allen awoke from his centennial sleep? Why had it changed _everything_?

"What?" Lavi asked, not in any sort of social mood.

"I called," said Kanda, as if that explained everything.

"And?" Lavi inquired.

"Why don't you answer your phone?" asked Yuu, crossing his arms.

"I was busy," Lavi answered.

"How busy?" pressed Kanda.

"What is this, twenty questions?" Lavi asked, bitterness leaking into his tone all too easily. Kanda noticed it too, his expression falling from his usual façade momentarily.

"You look like shit," observed Kanda.

"Thanks for coming all the way over to say that," Lavi said, rather unkindly.

"It's that new kid, isn't it?" asked Yuu.

"What are you talking about?" Lavi replied, his heart constricting at the recollection of Allen's look that morning. How was he ever supposed to make things right?

"The kid you're dating. Allen-whatever-his-name-is," Kanda said easily, not stumbling over his words as Lavi had done when he had said '_Oh, so you're dating Lenalee, right?_'

"What about him?" Lavi asked.

"He's bad for you," said Yuu, peeking past him before continuing: "Your apartment's never been that clean."

"It's none of your business, like I said before," Lavi replied. Kanda looked down, somewhat guiltily when Lavi brought up their last altercation.

"Sorry," said the Japanese man. His fingers reached for Lavi's wrist, the fingertips just barely brushing against the sleeve of his shirt, surprising Lavi somewhat. The redhead moved his hand away and Yuu's eyes turned darker. It was the same shade those exotic eyes normally turned when Kanda felt guilty, like that time the two of them were hurt on Yuu's motorcycle. Lavi felt badly, but couldn't let himself be touched.

Not right now.

"It's fine," Lavi replied, not wanting to talk any longer. "Look, I have stuff to do. I'll see you later, Yuu."

"Yeah," said Kanda, looking at him long and hard for a moment. It was the look that used to bring Lavi to his knees, weak with the force of the gaze. Now, it was something that made him uncomfortable and Lavi stared stubbornly at the door jam. This was it. It was over. No more of those secret glances between them, no more of Kanda's clandestine visits at random hours of the late evening and early morning. It was the end of everything and Lavi felt a part of him empty, but it was a dull sort of loss compared to what he had done to Allen.

"Yeah," Lavi said, listening as Yuu's footsteps got further and further away. When he was out of earshot, Lavi closed the door and stared at it for the longest time. But there was nothing in him that wanted to cry.

Nothing at all.

**pqpq**

Lavi went downstairs and did six loads of laundry. It was therapeutic in a way, but the monotonous sounds of the washers and dryers made him itch with impatience and confusion. Midday Tuesday left him alone with his thoughts and the smell of detergent, where his green eyes stared uncertainly at the black coat that remained in his basket. It was the one that Lavi had taken off Allen's unconscious form when he'd brought the boy home. Tattered and bloody, Lavi wondered if he should wash it or not. Perhaps Allen would want to keep it in its current condition.

The thought of Allen left a bitter taste in his mouth and he swallowed thickly, pulling the basket closer to him to inspect the coat. His fingertips smoothed over the sable fabric, over the cool metal of a beaten and slightly mutilated Cross Rose, the symbol of the Black Order. Its image, he recalled, was on the title page of the _End of Days_ that was currently suffocating behind yellow bordered magazines on the bottom shelf.

He dropped the coat into the basket, not wanting to touch it any longer. It made a heavy sound when it hit the plastic of the bin by his feet and Lavi's brow furrowed slightly. The buttons weren't the cause of it, nor the badge. It had been something from one of the pockets. Inside one, he found a pair of worn, white gloves, which he placed on the table next to him. In the other, Lavi discovered a small, yet heavy, brass skeleton key. His brow furrowed deeper still at the small tag hanging from the end of it: a thin piece of matching metal with a strange seal stamped into it. The coat of arms was something he'd seen before…somewhere. But no matter how he tried to recall _where_ he'd seen it, Lavi could not place the image before him: an open book, a compass rose, a quill and scroll of parchment, and a balanced scale.

Annoyed with his inability to remember where he'd seen the coat of arms, Lavi put the key back into Allen's pocket and folded the jacket neatly. Placing the gloves on top of it, Lavi stared at the uniform before him on the table. The sunlight spilling in through the dirty windows splayed across the fabric, casting the bloodstains in harsh relief against the dark color. It hurt him to look at it.

When the clothes were done and dried, he dutifully folded them and placed them into the basket. Lavi put the dirty coat on top of his bottle of detergent and box of Cling-Free, doing his best not to look at it as he trekked back up the stairs to his flat. Shifting the laundry basket onto his hip, Lavi unlocked the door and stepped inside, finding Allen sitting on the couch as if he had been waiting. His fingers were working at the smooth band around his finger, moving it up and down repeatedly, nervously. He wore the clothes that Lavi had lain out for him, the top few buttons of the shirt undone casually.

"Hey," Lavi said, once he'd found his voice, closing the door behind him.

"Hey," said Allen, looking down. Awkwardly, Lavi put the laundry down on the counter and pulled Allen's coat from the top of the pile. Holding it flat in his hands, Lavi walked closer to where Allen sat on the couch, wondering if the other boy would run from him again. But he did not, remaining perched on the edge of the sofa, looking at Lavi with an expression the redhead couldn't name.

"I, um…you were wearing this when…" Lavi trailed off, handing it over. Allen looked at it, his eyes softening as he accepted the jacket. Their hands did not touch. "Um, I just, it was in the laundry and…and I didn't want to wash it if…" Allen wasn't listening as he placed the coat upon his knees, his red fingertips touching the white gloves. Lavi watched with amazement, his eyes taking in the left arm of the boy across from him for what seemed like the first time. He couldn't believe that it had taken him that long to notice its strangeness, but he didn't feel disgusted or uncomfortable by it at all. The redhead was intrigued, his own fingers itching to touch it; hold it in his hand, bring it to his lips to _kiss it while saying 'Allen, you're beautiful_.' But Lavi could not and so he avoided his eyes elsewhere.

"Thank you," Allen said quietly, his fingertips trailing over the ornate buttons of the uniform.

"There's…something in the pocket, too," Lavi offered, looking down with embarrassment as he lied: "It, um, fell out earlier…" Allen appeared confused, reaching into both pockets to search for the item in question. Momentarily, his right hand emerged beneath the black folds, holding the small key. Observing it for a moment, recognition dawned in Allen's expression.

"It's…Rabi's," Allen said and Lavi wished he hadn't said anything. Allen continued somewhat tearfully: "It's the key to…there was a box under his bed where he kept some of his things. I don't know why…he gave it to me…" Lavi shrugged unhelpfully, not having any answer for Allen. All he wanted to do was go hide somewhere, maybe in the cluttered student library at the university, where he could immerse himself in his books and paper…

"Lavi," said Allen, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" Lavi asked, looking up. He couldn't quite meet Allen's eyes, so instead he stared at the pattern of the blanket thrown over the back of the couch.

"I'm…sorry…" Allen said, touching his ring again, pulling it on and off a few times. Lavi swallowed dryly.

"I'm…the one who should be sorry," Lavi replied, regretting his decision to look from the couch to the boy across from him. Dropping his eyes didn't help, either, especially when he could see the marks he'd made in a passion he could not remember. "I…don't know what happened and I can't…"

"Lavi…" Allen said, his warm fingertips touching the back of Lavi's hand. It sent a spark of electricity through him, like something so _alive_. "Do you remember last night?" Allen's fingers moved around his, holding his hand gently.

"No," Lavi answered quietly, regretfully. "I'm sorry."

"No," Allen said, his voice rather firm. "_I'm_ sorry." Lavi looked at Allen, unsure of what he meant. With an expression of guilt, Allen gave his hand a tug, pulling him down to sit on the couch. The silver-haired boy next to him looked down and away, the fingers around Lavi's own trembling slightly.

"Allen…?" Lavi asked, wondering what Allen was talking about. How could Allen be apologizing when it was Lavi who had committed such a heinous deed?

"I…used you," Allen said quietly, hesitation coloring his tone. His silver eyes were everywhere but Lavi's.

"I…don't understand…" Lavi answered, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

"Last night…you…weren't you," Allen replied softly. Lavi, even more perplexed, leaned closer to hear what he was saying. Gray eyes looked up at him, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I think, I mean, I know…you weren't Lavi last night."

"Then…who was I…?" Lavi asked, his chest constricting in anticipation.

"You were undoubtedly…" Allen said, meeting his eyes without fear. "Rabi."

**pqpq**

THE PLOT THICKENS.

/capslock

I don't know about you, but I'm excited :D

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I'm finishing up the quarter at my university and it's wearing me down. I just finished midterms and went right into finals. I have to worry about moving out of the dorms, too, which is going to be a nightmare. On top of it, bronchitis hasn't gone away yet. I sort of feel like dying o.o So, if there aren't updates for another week or two, no worries. Once I'm out of school, I'll have more time to update.

Thanks for all your patience!

**Dhampir72**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's love**: Zapheg, MitarashiiDango, stoneygeek, Nusku, glon morski, NellaXIval, knux33, twilightserius, fotoshop-cutout, Aion Laven Walker, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, darkangelwings90, asdfasdfg, TheTwisted, Naruta13, Tsumi no Curse, NaruHinaforever, BlueFox of the Moon, I'm Defective, shushan, Amaya 24, whoareuagain, Sazuka-Chan, Yaoi Is Forever Love, Blau, and everyone else for their continued love and support, favorites and alerts.

**pqpq**

Allen couldn't believe that he had done such a thing.

It was bad enough that he had used Lavi and then ran away from him, instead of explaining, hiding cowardly in the bathroom until he was sure the redhead wasn't in the apartment any longer. But the worst thing he could have done was actually tell him the _truth_. The truth of the matter was that somehow, Lavi had not been Lavi at all. Lavi touched differently from Rabi, his caresses much softer than the needy, almost bruising contact that his late lover had possessed. Last night, the gentleness had left Lavi and been replaced with that same hunger that Rabi reserved specifically for Allen. The silver-haired boy did not mind it and welcomed the affection, despite knowing that it was wrong. He knew it was wrong because he could taste the wine on his lips and still see Lavi's almost heartbroken expression when he cried, Rabi's name upon his lips. But when Rabi was there in the dark, touching him like he used to, Allen became weak, his guilt numbed by Rabi's tongue and fingertips. He was so happy that Rabi was there with him that he didn't think of the consequences. Allen never imagined he would wake up in the morning to find that the whole thing had left him sore and ashamed with Lavi staring up at him like the world had just crashed down upon his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," Allen said again, seeing that same look upon Lavi's face now. He looked lost and terribly confused, perhaps under the assumption that the entire thing had been his fault to begin with. But now presented with this evidence and Allen's own testimonial, the smaller boy couldn't blame Lavi for his reaction. After all, Lavi felt like he was responsible for the incident all day, only to find out that he was actually the _victim_.

"It's…fine," Lavi said, his words sounding as forced as the smile upon his lips. If that wasn't enough to increase the guilt inside Allen tenfold, he didn't know what could.

"No, Lavi…it's not fine," Allen replied seriously.

"Really, it's okay," Lavi said, standing up as he walked away from the couch and towards the kitchen, where his laundry basket had been teetering dangerously towards the edge during their entire conversation. "Don't worry about it."

"How can I not worry about it?" Allen asked, standing as well. With methodical slowness, Lavi took some things off the top of the stack of clean clothes and returned them to their proper places inside their closets.

"Look, it's over and done with now," Lavi replied, picking up his laundry basket. Allen couldn't help but feel like the redhead was making a show of not looking at him. "I'm okay, you're okay, so let's not dwell on it anymore." As Lavi said this, he made for the bedroom, but Allen blocked his way, standing in front of him with some flare of his old self back in him. It was the defiant boy he had been, standing up to Kanda's nasty attitude every morning in the mess hall. It was the same sort of boldness Allen displayed in battle. It was the same sort of adamancy that he showed when he wanted Rabi to open up and tell him why sometimes he would wake in the middle of the night to find his redheaded lover sitting stoically by the window, his eye not looking like his own, but like he was far, far away.

"What?" Lavi asked, when Allen remained silent before him.

"We have to talk about it," Allen said.

"Why?" Lavi inquired. Allen had lived with Rabi long enough to know his little habits, his defense mechanisms. How strange that Lavi had inherited such qualities as Rabi's, like when his lover had not wanted to look him in the eye, but looked at a place on the wall just behind his ear. Allen could always tell when that green eye was on him and when it was on the doorframe. Lavi was doing the same thing, his twin emeralds focused on something just behind Allen's right shoulder.

"So it doesn't happen again," Allen answered, stepping to the left when Lavi stepped to the right in an attempt to get around him.

"We both made a mistake," Lavi said, his tone slightly aggravated. "So let's just not do it again, okay? No discussion necessary."

"It wasn't _your_ fault," Allen countered. "And this discussion _is_ necessary, Lavi."

"_Whatever_," Lavi replied, definitely angry now. Allen could tell by his voice and by the way those green eyes actually looked at him in a warning sort of way. Allen met his gaze without wavering, not about to back down now. To this challenge, some of the hostility left Lavi's expression, replaced with defeat and a long-suffering sigh. "Look, I just don't want to talk about it anymore, okay?"

"Why?" Allen pressed, stepping closer. "Why don't you want to talk about it?"

"Why do you want to talk about it?" Lavi asked.

"Because I want to know what happened!" Allen said, his voice raising a little.

"But I don't _know_ what happened!" Lavi answered, a little louder as well.

"Then let's talk about it and try to figure it out!" Allen replied, because it truly made the most sense to take that course of action.

"Maybe I don't want to!" Lavi shouted. The pitch of his voice made Allen flinch, as he never heard Lavi speak above an indoor voice before, to him, at least. It was disconcerting and that feeling must have shown plainly on his face because Lavi's expression immediately turned apologetic. "I'm sorry," he said, softer this time. "I just don't want to talk about it anymore."

"But…why?" Allen asked weakly, his eyes pleading with the redhead before him. "I…I want to know what happened. I want to understand."

"I don't," Lavi said plainly.

"Why?" Allen inquired, closer to him now. "Why not?"

"Because," Lavi began, pushing past Allen, "I'm a coward." The silver-haired boy stood there for a moment, blinking as the words settled and made sense in his brain. Out of all the things Lavi could say about himself, that word didn't fit.

"You're not, Lavi," Allen said, turning around. He watched as Lavi took folded clothes and put them in their respective drawers, not intervening. It was a distraction, Allen knew, and left the redhead to his work. "Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm afraid of knowing," Lavi answered, taking too special care of his socks as he arranged them in the drawer. He must have been truly bothered to do such a thing, if the laundry and the clean apartment behind him were any indications of his habits when he became upset.

"How could you be afraid of that?" Allen asked, biting his lip after the question was put forth. Rabi was the one who was never afraid, always questioning, always wanting to know. It was the Bookman in him. But Lavi was different, because he wasn't Rabi, and Allen had to draw that distinguishing line before he committed another mistake.

"Sometimes there are things that even I don't want to know," Lavi said, looking lost when there was no more laundry to put away. Instead, he dithered with the basket, as if he wasn't quite sure where to put it. He was stalling.

"But this is so important, Lavi," Allen began gently, taking a step towards the redhead. When Lavi turned around and glared at him, the smaller male took a step backwards.

"I don't want to know, Allen," Lavi said again. This time, his focus was on Allen, their eyes met and were held by some invisible, magnetic force. No matter how much Allen wanted to look away, or for Lavi to turn his intensity elsewhere, it did not happen, the stare boring heat and heaviness inside Allen like something he'd never felt before. "Maybe I don't want to know if I'm not real."

"Not…real…" Allen repeated, his eyes widening marginally. A conversation flitted at the back of his mind, in a scene much like this one, where _the sun is shining outside brightly and the birds are singing, but inside it's dark and Rabi isn't looking at him. _

'_Rabi' isn't real, Allen, he says. _

_Rabi is real, Allen says, touching his hand. _

'_I' can disappear, he says._

_You won't disappear, Allen replies, giving his hand a squeeze. _

_I like this 'me', Allen. I want to stay._

_Then stay with me, Rabi. _

_His eye is dark like a lake surface during the new moon, placid and black, unwavering. Real, everything about Rabi is real, no matter what the redhead thinks or believes or says. No matter what the Bookman and all of his history and lies says. Rabi is Rabi. And Rabi is real. _

_Okay._

"I don't want to think that this life I've always led isn't mine," Lavi said, bringing Allen back to the present, as if he were ascending from deep, warm water. But when he broke the surface, it was to Lavi's pained face and the sound of a phone ringing abnormally loud in the quiet of the apartment. Their eyes held for the first two rings, but then Lavi broke their spell, turning his back to pick up the phone on the nightstand.

"Hello?" he said. Allen could hear another voice as clear as day on the other end:

"Boy, are you sober?" came the question from the receiver. Allen could have sworn he saw Lavi begin to tremble with suppressed rage.

"Of course I'm _sober_, _jiji_. It's two in the afternoon," Lavi answered.

"You're not high, are you?" asked the elderly voice.

"Oh, yeah. I'm high as a fucking kite right now," Lavi replied scathingly.

"Don't take that tone with me, you little drug addict. You're lucky if I don't send you straight to rehab."

"I'm not a fucking addict, gramps. Jesus, give me some credit here."

"If you're not drunk or stoned, what are you doing then?"

"Don't sound so fucking suspicious. I'm doing laundry."

"Laundry? Is that what you're calling it nowadays? How on earth did I raise such a drug-addicted, alcoholic queer?"

"Did you call just to be a fucking nuisance? Because I've had a bad day," Lavi said, threatening tone to his voice as his gaze flickered to Allen for a fraction of a second, "and I _will_ hang up the phone."

"I called because I'm back in town. I was hoping that my grandson would pick me up the airport. But since he's too busy doing crack, I'll have to call a cab."

"God, you're such an asshole sometimes. All you had to do was ask nicely and I'd come pick you up."

"You're the asshole, you nancy. Come pick me up, then."

"What's in it for me?"

"I'm certainly not going to give you money. You'll just use it to continue your pathetic addictions." Lavi made a fist, but didn't say anything as his grandfather continued: "I'll make dinner, but you'll have to bring dessert."

"I'll make some fucking pudding, then," Lavi replied between his teeth.

"That's good lad. Now get your useless arse out to Gahanna and pick me up. I'm not going to stand out in the cold all day waiting on you."

"So glad to have you back," Lavi said, sarcasm dripping in his voice like chocolate syrup from a tart cake. "Keep an eye out for strangers. Someone might knock you down and break your hip."

"Shut the fuck up, Lavi." There was a click before Allen heard the sound of the dial tone. Lavi set the phone down and looked over at Allen, not appearing at all pleased with the situation.

"Well, it looks like we're going for a drive."

**pqpq**

The drive to the airport was a quiet one. Neither of them said much and Lavi's body was radiating annoyance, anger, and hurt. Allen kept looking at him, wanting to say something, but presumed it would be unwise. Instead, he looked out the window at all the cars speeding by, watching as flurries of snow collided with the glass and melted into small droplets of moisture. They made bands of light and water as the car sped down the highway.

"I'm not mad at you," Lavi said, after the silence had gone on for what Allen would call too long. He turned his head to look at the red-haired man beside him. Although Lavi was driving and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel, he seemed to genuinely mean his words.

"You're not?" Allen asked quietly, a bit of hope in his voice.

"I'm not," Lavi replied, and that was all. By that time, they were no longer on the highway, but on a long stretch of road that led to a circular building with tall, green windows. Above their heads, large, roaring crafts soared with deafening rumbles. It reminded Allen of thunderstorms and the way the old Black Order's headquarters would tremble and shake in the night during the bouts of bad weather. When they reached the building and pulled beneath a smooth overhang, the sound lessened slightly, allowing Allen to fully concentrate on his surroundings. People were everywhere with large bags, loading their luggage into the trunks of yellow cars with lit boxes on the top. Men in uniform walked up and down the sidewalk, instructing travelers to certain doors, helping them move heavy suitcases upon metal push carts. Close to the car door, Allen saw two little children playing tag while their parents smoked and talked on their cellular phones.

"Well, there's the old panda," Lavi said, capturing Allen's attention almost immediately at the nickname's familiarity. From a few doors ahead of where Lavi parked, a short, older man began walking in their direction. It was actually quite disconcerting how much he looked like the Bookman Allen knew; the same Bookman who was the one Allen and Rabi had hid from so that they could hold hands freely in the privacy away from his searching, criticizing eyes.

"It's…it's Bookman," Allen said, unable to help himself and the small bit of discomfort he felt. Rabi's mentor had never been someone Allen experienced ease around, as Bookman had the bad habit of looking _too_ closely at people.

"The one and only," Lavi replied, not sensing Allen's surprise or uneasiness in the slightest. "I'll be right back." The redhead reached under his seat and clicked something before he got out of the car and crossed in front of it, making his way towards the man with the gray hair pulled back in a ponytail atop his head. Once they were within a foot of each other, Lavi took his grandfather's bag and easily slung it over his shoulder. Although Allen couldn't hear what they were saying, he could tell that the two of them weren't in the best of moods. Lavi took the luggage into the back of the car and then slammed the trunk lid down, just as Allen's door was opened. A pair of very familiar dark eyes met his, staring at him with such a peculiar expression that Allen wasn't quite sure what to feel besides anxiety. It was the scar that the old man was looking at and it was the same look Allen received when he and Bookman had first met; when the old man had removed the gauze from his injured eye and said: _This is very strange, indeed_.

"Oh, so now you go and quit your bitching," Lavi grumbled from behind him.

"Shut up, Lavi," replied Bookman, his unblinking stare never wavering from Allen's face.

"I told you," Lavi said, his eyes following Bookman's stare. "I'm not crazy."

"Just get in the fucking car, Lavi," Bookman said. Lavi gave him a mocking salute that would have been humorous in any other company.

"Sir, yes, sir."

And he was promptly kicked in the face. It was strange how some things seemed like they didn't change at all.

**pqpq**

The ride from the airport was louder than before. After securing the front seat from Allen, Bookman spoke quickly and softly to Lavi, in a language that the silver-haired boy couldn't identify. He sounded angry, but also excited, which was definitely a confusing jumble of pitches and hand gestures. It was the same way that Allen had heard Bookman speak before in the recesses of the library, when he and Rabi had discovered something historically important. Allen tried to be polite by not listening, but it was hard not to wonder what it was they were discussing while he was staring out the backseat window.

It was about fifteen minutes when the car stopped outside of a quaint looking house some ways from the city. The snow was coming down lightly from the gray sky and Allen pulled his coat around himself to keep warm. Lavi got out, his breath coming forth in a small puff of cloud before him as he retrieved the suitcase from the trunk. Bookman stepped out as well, so Allen followed suit, standing silently to the side until the redhead and his grandfather were making their way inside.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself before," Bookman said, extending his hand once they were settled, seated in a small, warm sitting room. Tea had been prepared and it sat on the table, steaming pleasantly from oriental cups. The room smelled like books and age, like the library at the Order and similar to the scent Rabi's clothes always had when they slid into bed together at night. "My name is Sid Bookman."

"I'm Allen Walker," Allen replied, shaking Bookman's hand.

"Believe me, I am well aware of this fact," the old man answered, his speech much more formal now that he wasn't speaking derogatory names towards his grandson. Said redhead said on the couch across from Allen, nursing his tea with a look of the utmost concentration.

"Bookman is your surname," Allen stated aloud, when no one made to say anything further.

"Yes," Bookman replied.

"But…wasn't Rabi…" Allen swallowed thickly, eyes falling to the handsome carpet beneath his feet. "Wasn't Rabi the last of the line?"

"The Bookman Clan itself is not based upon hereditary successions," replied Bookman. "Initially, it was created through familial lines, but over time, the Clan expanded. During the war with the Earl of Millennium, for instance, the acting Bookman was instructing an apprentice that was not a blood relative."

"But…what I mean is…when he…when Rabi died, wasn't that…the end?" Allen asked.

"Most certainly not," Bookman replied, lacing his fingers together comfortably. There was a gold ring upon his finger with a familiar insignia. It was the same one stamped upon the key that Allen carried with him in his pocket. "The Bookman Clan is much larger than you would think. It could never just be the Bookman and his apprentice. What would happen if they were both lost to some unfortunate accident? Then history would never be recorded and the Clan would have been lost a long time ago. Although the original Clan was small in number, by the year 1899, it was about as large as the Vatican, perhaps even larger. Therefore, history was not lost with the Bookmen you knew. It was preserved and the tradition was carried on, even to this very day."

"Even now?" Allen asked.

"Of course," Bookman answered easily. "The National Historical Society is only one of many international organizations around the world that was started by the Bookman Clan. Anything of significant historical value falls under our jurisdiction. Including you."

"Including me?" Allen repeated, somewhat nervously.

"We have much to discuss," Bookman said with a nod. "I hope that you'll explain everything that has been eluding us for so long now."

"What do you mean?" Allen asked.

"During the war with the Earl of Millennium, many of the records of the two current Bookmen were lost. The most promising piece of historical value is the _End of Days_, but its author remains anonymous to this day."

"What do you need my help with?" Allen inquired, a bit more specifically.

"Just filling in gaps," Bookman answered, rather vaguely. Out of the corner of his eye, Allen saw Lavi's expression turn somewhat dark, but the reason was not clear to the youngest male in the room. The redhead put down his tea and left them without a word, abandoning Allen with his grandfather, who seemed to stare just as much as the old man Allen had been acquainted with over one hundred years prior.

"Well…aren't you going to ask me questions?" Allen asked, when nothing had been said for a while and he began to feel uncomfortable in the older man's presence. Nervously, he tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, pulling it over to obscure his left hand from those prying eyes.

"I'm afraid that I cannot without the permission of the Board," Bookman replied, with an annoyed sigh. "They will all want to question you as well."

"Oh," Allen said, his voice small. He hated to be stared at and being forced into a room with a bunch of ogling, interrogating men seemed like the most intimidating thing since Leverrier and his minions.

"I'll make an appointment to meet with them at your earliest convenience," Bookman said.

"Whenever you want," Allen replied, feeling as though Bookman would push for it to be as soon as possible. But the sooner it happened, the sooner it would be over, and that was much better than dreading it day after day. With a nod, Bookman excused himself and went into the other room, where Allen could hear him dialing away on a telephone. From there, his voice became low and foreign again so Allen could not even begin to know what he was saying. However, he didn't have to wonder for too long, his attention soon drawn to a soft sound from another part of the house. It was quiet in its familiarity and sad in its melody. Something that Allen felt resonate in him, like from another time, when his _fingers were playing, moving without his conscious thought upon black keys in the secret white room. _

_My Timcanpy._

"Lavi?" Allen asked, walking along the length of carpeted hallways in the shadowy house. In one darkened corridor, light spilled onto the Mahal rug, illuminating his path, and Allen followed it into a sunny parlor where various instruments were laid out in beautiful display. Lavi sat by the window, a violin in his lap and a look of almost peaceful day dreaming upon his face. "Lavi?" Allen asked again, to get his attention.

"Oh, hey, Allen," Lavi said, patting the spot next to him in invitation. Allen took it, glad that Lavi was true to his words and that he wasn't angry with him. "Did gramps let you go already?"

"He's making an appointment…with a board, or something…" Allen answered.

"Oh," Lavi replied, as if he had nothing else to say.

"You play the violin?" Allen asked, to change the subject.

"A little. Not so much anymore," Lavi said, looking down at the instrument in his lap.

"It sounded nice a little while ago," Allen commented. "What were you playing?"

"Nothing," the redhead answered, looking embarrassed. "It was just something I wrote a long time ago."

"Can you play it again?" Allen asked. Lavi shook his head.

"I'm out of practice. This thing is out of tune," Lavi replied, his excuses something that Allen waved off with a shake of his head.

"Please. Can you play it again?" Allen asked, seriousness in his voice. Lavi looked like he was going to refuse again, but he relented when he looked into Allen's eyes.

"Fine, but don't make fun of me, okay?" Lavi said.

"I won't," Allen promised, watching as Lavi picked up the elegant instrument. He tucked the end beneath his chin and took a breath, posing his bow before bringing it across the strings once more. The beautifully sad melody began again and Allen felt his body—his arm, his scar—tingle with warmth at the sound. It was that night in Edo, when he thought he had lost Rabi for good and played upon the piano in the secret room within the ark. Allen had cried as he prayed and wished with all his heart for Rabi to come back to him.

And Rabi did come back.

Right before him, in the afternoon sunlight was Rabi. He was there in Lavi's movements, his voice, his fingertips. Everything down to the way his eyelashes would move and his brow would furrow, and even the way his hair would part in the morning upon waking. Rabi was alive inside of Lavi. Rabi had found his way back to him. And before Allen could realize what he was doing, he had turned to face the instrument before him, drawing back the cover to reveal eighty-eight black and white keys. He did not need sheet music or memory to play. Instead, Allen listened to Lavi and the way he so dexterously maneuvered music and time to play that long lost melody. It felt like Rabi's hands were moving his forward, matching Lavi's treble with no effort on his part. Together, they played the Fourteenth's song. A song that Lavi had no reason to know except for one: Rabi.

And they played in perfect harmony.

**pqpq**

I wish I could slap my writer's block in the face.

T____T

Ah, well.

For those of you who want to know what the 14th's Song sounds like on violin, check out my profile. At the bottom of my bio, there is a link to DarkDragonAsassin playing the song on her violin. Quite amazing, I have to say and an inspiration for this chapter!

**Dhampir72**


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Thanks: Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Aion Laven Walker, MitarashiiDango, -Aeius-, fotoshop-cutout, Tsumi no Curse, glon morski, twilightserius, I'm Defective, Karoomy-chan, Chiaki Saruwatari, XxChocoMelloxX, Sazuka-Chan, Amaya 24, SakuraKissy and everyone else for your favorites and alerts.

**pqpq**

Lavi could not understand how his life had changed so drastically in the past few days.

His life had been one giant routine until now. It was the same movements, the same places, the same books, work, people, every day. Everything had its place in Lavi's life, even inside his messy apartment. His life wasn't glamorous, but it was better than most. Besides the ever-present loneliness, Lavi had considered himself normal and relatively happy for the things he had, because where he was going in his education, and due to the few relations he kept with friends. He'd never wanted an adventure or a puzzle, a mystery to solve. Lavi just wanted his house, his degree, and perhaps someone compatible to settle down with. If his research went through with the Historical Society, Lavi even considered calling himself successful one day. Even though he led an ordinary, unexciting existence, Lavi was okay with that.

Until now.

Everything had changed when he couldn't stop himself from touching that melancholy statue at the museum, on such a normal Saturday afternoon. His world had been turned upside down in the course of a few days and now, not only could he not understand what had happened in another life, but Lavi couldn't understand the life he had led until Allen broke his cyclical routine. He couldn't comprehend how things had fallen so out of control with Yuu, how Tyki had a role somehow in all of this, and how Lavi could feel like he was so in love with Allen when he barely knew him.

It was foolish, Lavi knew, to think of the feelings he harbored as "love". But there was no other way to describe the way he felt. Although he had been a bit angry upon finding out what had happened the previous night, Lavi was more dissatisfied with himself than with Allen. After all, he had wanted to at least _remember_ something as wonderful as making love to Allen, but the redhead could only grasp at flashes of memory and feeling, so quick that they didn't make sense at all.

None of it really made sense. Nothing could explain how he and Allen could be so compatible: how Allen knew exactly when to smile when Lavi was unsure; how Lavi knew precisely how to touch when Allen needed comfort; how the two of them could sit down and play a song together so perfectly when they had never rehearsed—or had they? Lavi chalked it up to not making any sense, because there was no other way he could even begin to analyze what was happening. When had Lavi learned to understand Allen and vice versa? Was he really even Lavi at all?

That scared the redhead more than anything else. What if his entire life had been one cosmic scheme to get Rabi and Allen back together? Although Lavi should have been glad for them, he could only feel despair. It came with knowing that the ring on Allen's finger meant that Lavi would never be able to ever have him like Rabi had had him. Allen's heart had been reserved for only one person: the person who died one hundred years ago on the battlefield protecting the love of his life. It made Lavi jealous, his heart ache with a sense of loss he'd never felt, even more than when Yuu had said _I'm not really into guys anymore. _Just like in that scenario, Lavi had something he truly wanted placed before him, only to have it taken away at the last moment. And it seemed as if a bad movie was on repeat, because Lavi felt as it he was just barely clinging to Allen by his fingertips. What would happen when those silver eyes suddenly disappeared from his life?

It just wasn't fair.

"Are you sure…this is safe?" Allen asked from beside him, clutching at the armrest with apparent nervousness. They were onboard a Southwest flight bound for New York City, something that his grandfather had arranged at the last minute with the National Historical Society's International Board. It had caused Bookman to enter the room seconds after they had finished playing the melody that no one but Lavi should have known. Before he could even ask how Allen had played along with him, and with such grace, the old man had appeared. He informed them they were taking the evening flight to JFK, so that Allen could be questioned sometime tomorrow afternoon by the Board. Lavi was pretty sure those representatives from all around the world would shit themselves when Allen Walker himself strolled into the room: live history for the people who had spent their entire lives searching for answers. Lavi could picture their faces, the old, shriveled expressions behind smart looking glasses and graying hair; he could imagine their questions ringing out in dozens of foreign languages, not kind in the slightest. With those images, Lavi could almost _feel_ Allen's reactions to their cold questioning, their piranha-like attitudes on the hunt for information.

It was enough to make Lavi feel slightly sick.

"Of course," Lavi said, managing to break away from his confused jumble of thoughts to place his hand on top of Allen's in comfort. He even scrounged up a smile from the depths of his troubled self. "It's the fastest way to get anywhere nowadays." Allen only nodded, looking out of his window with a pale expression as clouds of orange and red streamed by. Sitting next to the silver-haired boy from the past, Lavi could feel his slight trembling, despite his words and the beautiful scenery outside. "It's safe, I promise," Lavi said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Allen's hand in a southing gesture.

"I trust you," Allen replied, silver eyes holding his for a long moment, before looking down and away again. Lavi suddenly felt _warmth of a summer night upon his cheeks, indigo looking down beyond golden lamplight at the sea—the depths of eyes in the dark behind silver curtains. Pink smiles as words caress his flesh like a Mediterranean breeze, smelling of palm trees and crisp, white sheets._

_Please._

_I won't hurt you, I promise._

_I know. I trust you, Rabi._

_Just tell me if you want to stop._

_Don't._

_Skin touches, soft like silk, slightly wet with tears, but not pain and only happiness. Moving, moving together, weaving dreams together as bodies join, singing in harmony upon reaching that peak, tumbling over that edge into a rainbow lit evening with soft sighs and loving words whispered beneath cool breezes…_

"Lavi," Allen said, causing the redhead to open his eyes a bit groggily. His mind was reeling from a dream that he could feel tingling inside his body. So strange that he couldn't remember much, except for random senses that were slightly incoherent, but so rich with imagery in feeling he could barely discern one emotion from the other. Looking around, he felt slightly confused. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, but apparently he had.

"What's wrong, Allen?" Lavi asked, once he'd come back to the present, away from that summer night he'd never experienced himself.

"The plane is going down," Allen replied, looking worried. Lavi smiled and nodded, sitting up a bit in his seat. He hadn't remembered falling asleep and he certainly didn't remember taking his brief little nap on Allen's shoulder, which had been quite comfortable, thank you very much.

"Don't worry," Lavi said. "We're just stopping and letting some people off, then we'll go back up again."

"Again?" Allen repeated, his expression slightly nervous. The young boy hadn't enjoyed take-off very much and Lavi had to put his arm around Allen's shoulders as they ascended hundreds of thousands of feet into the air. The redhead didn't blame him, of course, as Allen had been born years before planes were even in existence.

"Don't worry," Lavi said again. "It gets easier after the first time."

After a forty-five minute layover in D.C., where Lavi spent the majority of the time introducing Allen to concepts such as food courts and gift shops, they spent the evening aboard another flight bound for New York. The second time they went skywards, Allen seemed to do a bit better, but would not let go of Lavi's hand for the entire three hour trip. It filled Lavi with a silent happiness that Allen trusted him so much and when the smaller boy rested his head against the redhead's shoulder, he couldn't stop smiling.

"You know," Bookman said from beside him, "you probably made one of the biggest discoveries in history."

"Allen's not an artifact, _jiji_," Lavi replied quietly, so not to rouse Allen from his slumber.

"Of course, he isn't _now_," the older man said.

"He's a live person," Lavi answered. "Not a stone statue anymore."

"_Anymore_ is your key word there," Bookman said, setting down his SkyMall long enough to give Lavi a look. "Despite whatever you may think of the boy, this finding of yours is going to establish your name within the society. World-wide, people will know you."

"I want them to know me for my research," Lavi retorted. "I don't want them to know me for a careless accident."

"Careless accident or not, it's going to get you inducted," Bookman said, picking up his magazine again. "You can get any job in the entire world with that next to your name." Lavi decided not to pursue the argument. After all, it was the first time in a long time that he and Bookman had been in the same place without swearing at each other. Although he loved the man who raised him, Lavi found his grandfather to be unbearably cold sometimes.

"What's going to happen to Allen?" Lavi asked.

"What do you mean?" Bookman inquired, seemingly too entranced in a new gadget's description to pay him any mind.

"I mean, what's going to happen to him? The Society isn't going to put him under glass and let little school children make faces at him all day," Lavi said. "So what are they going to do?"

"I certainly have no idea," Bookman said in response, bending the corner of the page down. "Why the sudden interest?"

"There is no sudden interest," Lavi answered a bit crossly. "That's been my question from the start."

"You seem agitated," Bookman observed.

"I am sitting next to you," Lavi replied, earning himself a violent swat with the SkyMall.

"No need for cockiness," his grandfather said, straightening out the magazine in silence for a moment. "Oh, I understand."

"Understand what?" Lavi asked.

"Why you're suddenly interested," Bookman answered vaguely.

"I told you…" Lavi sighed, knowing that it was useless to argue. "Fine, what did your magical powers of observation tell you?"

"You slept with him," Bookman said, causing the redhead to flinch rather noticeably. Luckily, it wasn't great enough to wake Allen from his nap and for that Lavi was grateful. The last thing he needed was for Allen to hear _this _conversation.

"It…was an accident…" Lavi said lamely, his face most likely the same shade as his hair.

"That's believable. What? You both happened to be naked—"

"Jiji…"

"—and then you fell on top of him, I presume, accidentally, inside of him—"

"Jiji…"

"From there, I do believe it was a misunderstanding that you began the actual act of—"

"Jiji! Are you fucking done?!" Lavi hissed

"I was going to go on about the apparent mishap that brought about coitus, but I do believe you get my point," Bookman answered, glaring hard at him. "_Nothing_ is purely accidental." Lavi met his grandfather's stare, trying to ignore the pleasant weight of warmth against his shoulder.

"It wasn't me, _jiji_," Lavi said quietly. Something in his expression must have triggered some small part of Bookman's parental instinct, because he became very serious.

"What do you mean?" he inquired, with no trace of mockery in his voice at all.

"I mean, I can't remember it," Lavi replied, earning a suspicious look from Bookman.

"Were you drunk?" he asked, and even though Lavi had had a glass of wine before the entire incident, he wasn't going to say so.

"No," Lavi answered with a small shake of his head. "It was weird though. It was like…I wasn't me anymore. Almost like…I'd been shut away somewhere else when everything happened…it's weird because Allen said that…well, he said that it hadn't been me he'd slept with that night."

"Who, then?" Bookman asked, looking doubtful once again. "His imaginary friend?"

"He said it was Rabi," Lavi replied, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "The apprentice Bookman Allen Walker fell in love with during the _End of Days_." His words were enough to wipe that dubious expression from his grandfather's face, but perhaps too much, because the old, dark eyes flickered with an excited light. It was the same lust for historical knowledge that the piranhas of the Board would use as their drive when questioning Allen.

"How curious."

**pqpq**

At least the Board of Old and Nearly-Dead Men knew how to treat their guests.

A hired car was waiting for them at the airport. It was black and classy, with a lush, leather interior and a mini bar, which Lavi stared at enviously, but did not make to drink in front of his grandfather. Allen, most likely tired from all the new traveling experience he'd gained, curled up on the seat next to Lavi and went back to sleep. Although Lavi wanted to wake him to show him the City That Never Slept, the redhead couldn't bear shaking Allen's shoulder or forcing the boy awake when he was so tired. Instead, Lavi allowed Allen to sleep all the way from JFK to Manhattan, using his lap as a pillow. Bookman did not speak, but his eyes did enough talking for Lavi's liking.

A luxury room was provided for them at the Plaza Hotel in Time Square. It was everything out of every movie Lavi had ever seen: marbled floors, tasteful decorating, and, yes, a stocked bar. There were two rooms within the suite, a huge bathroom complete with Jacuzzi tub, and a stylish living room with plush sofas. Allen sleepily migrated towards the couch, but Lavi steered him in the direction of the bedroom. Beautiful mahoganies and tranquil lavender were accented by the crisp, white sheets upon the bed. The silver-haired boy sat, before promptly falling over on his side in a very adorable manner. Smiling, Lavi gently removed Allen's shoes and eased his feet up onto the bed. It took a bit of work, but the redhead managed to relieve Allen of his jacket and the old pair of gloves as well. As Lavi pulled the down blankets over the sleeping male, he let his eyes take in the peaceful form below him, with one pale hand resting atop an exotic red.

"Good night, Allen," Lavi said, unable to stop himself from tenderly kissing Allen's temple, letting his lips linger in the soft strands of silver momentarily. But then he realized where he was and who it was, the silver band laughing at him in the soft lamplight. Placing the sheets over Allen, Lavi quickly extinguished the light and left, walking out into the bright living and entrance area. Bookman was on the couch with a stack of tomes before him on the coffee table. He had a martini in his hand.

"You move fast," Lavi commented.

"You move faster," Bookman chided tauntingly, in a very inappropriate manner.

"Haha, aren't you the comedian?" Lavi said, walking into the kitchen to help himself to the wide variety of alcohol in the kitchen. He was going to have some wine, but recalled where that had gotten him last time, and instead poured a nice rum and coke with a twist of lime. Tasteful and fun, it was Lavi's drink of choice, but in a more sociable environment.

"Bak texted," Bookman informed him, when Lavi sat down.

"Is he coming tomorrow?" Lavi asked.

"Of course," Bookman answered, not looking up from his volume. "He is the representative for Asia Branch, after all."

"What'd he want then?" Lavi inquired, taking a sip of his drink. Maybe he'd put too much lime in it, because he could barely taste the rum.

"He wanted to know when you're going to submit your research," Bookman replied. "Said something about it being in before Christmas or else he's going to drop you from the program."

"Great," Lavi said sarcastically, downing his drink in one gulp upon hearing that.

"But after tomorrow, he might give you an extension," Bookman added. "Especially when he sees exactly what it was that's been keeping you so busy."

"Hm," Lavi answered, looking at his empty glass remorsefully. Bookman's phone vibrated on the glass table before them.

"It's probably that no-good son of mine…" Bookman grumbled, moving his book on top of the pile before answering in a very nasty string of Nepali. Lavi sat back with his empty glass and let the language of his childhood wash over him like waves. The rum had made him warm inside, but also tired and lonely. That was what he got for drinking it way too quickly. Not even caring what Bookman was saying, Lavi got up and made himself another drink, downed that, and then grabbed his bag on the way into the bedroom. He had been planning to spend the night on the couch, but Lavi's inebriated mind told him it was stupid to throw his back out for nothing, as the bed where Allen was sleeping was certainly big enough for two. Dropping his suitcase on the floor and kicking off his shoes, Lavi crawled into bed next to Allen with a sigh of tiredness. He had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow, and he didn't want to think about it either. Beside him, Allen shifted slightly in sleep, turning over to face him with two bleary, silver eyes.

"Hey," Lavi said with a small smile. "Care if I crash here tonight?"

"You'll…stay?" Allen asked, smiling too when Lavi nodded. "I'm glad."

"Me too," Lavi replied, eyes widening slightly when Allen scooted closer, curling himself up next to the redhead. Once again, he couldn't help but be struck by the feeling of how perfect Allen fit against him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but it was something he never wanted to go without.

"Lavi…'m kinda scared," Allen said softly, with warm breaths against his neck.

"'bout what?" Lavi asked, trying to keep himself from slurring too badly as he moved his arms around Allen's waist. The smaller boy did not pull away and Lavi was grateful.

"About tomorrow…what's going to happen?" Allen asked, clutching at Lavi's shirt with his two beautiful, mismatched hands.

"I dunno," Lavi answered, resting his cheek atop silken strands of silver.

"Are they…going to take me away?" Allen asked, the unspoken _from you_ ringing clear in his voice.

"I hope not…" Lavi said honestly.

"But what if they—" Lavi cut off Allen's question with a gentle finger pressed against his lips.

"Don't think 'bout it right now," Lavi said, his eyes falling shut in tiredness. "Juss get some sleep." After that, Lavi knew that Allen said a few more things, but his mind and body were warm and he could not understand the words said so quietly against his chest. He was pleasantly drunk and lying next to someone who was holding him back.

And that was enough.

**pqpq**

The morning came too early for Lavi's liking, as seven a.m. was never fun, but especially after such an emotionally and physically exhausting day prior. Their wake-up call was via phone and it would not stop its incessant ringing until Lavi leaned over the lean body next to him to answer it.

"What?" he growled.

"This is your morning wake up call," said the automated voice on the other end. "We here at the Plaza Hotel hope that you enjoy this beautiful day. The temperature is—"

"Dammit," Lavi grumbled, slamming the phone down irritably as he curled back up underneath the covers. It was the only way to escape the light and the noise that seemed to permeate the room, and his head. He hadn't had _that_ much to drink, but the combination of some alcohol and little REM sleep left Lavi rather disorientated.

"Do we hav'ta getup…?" Allen mumbled from beside him. Lavi definitely wanted to go back to bed, but when he realized that the sheets weren't his and that he'd received a _wake up call_ of all things, the redhead recalled that they were not back in Ohio, but rather instead in New York, in a very high class hotel, nonetheless.

"Yes…" Lavi replied, from his hiding place beneath the pillow.

"I dun'wanna…" Allen whined quietly, tucking himself into a little ball beneath Lavi's arm.

"We gotta…" Lavi answered, patting him on the head before he pushed himself upwards on his elbows. "But first…I'm gonna take a shower. I'll wake you up when I get out…" With that said, Lavi pulled himself up out of bed, threw the blankets back over Allen's body, and walked into the bathroom. After a steamy twenty minute shower, Lavi got out, dried off, and pulled on a fluffy white robe. Barefooted, he returned to the bedroom and grabbed clothes, turning on the lights as he went back towards the bathroom to change. "Okay, get up, Allen." A pillow was sent in his direction, but Lavi easily dodged it, ducking into the water closet for cover. He dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a button up forest green shirt. Not bothering to tuck it in, Lavi finished up in the bathroom and emerged once more.

"Allen…" Lavi said, upon seeing the boy in a fetal position beneath the blankets. "Come on, it's time to get up. Go take a shower. It'll make you feel better." Begrudgingly, Allen sat up and rubbed his eyes. Lavi smiled at how cute he was, going to sit on the edge of the bed close to the nightstand. Allen leaned back against him, not making to get up, so Lavi entertained himself momentarily by looking at the breakfast menu placed on the bedside table. "Oh, look. If you hurry, we'll have some breakfast downstairs in the lounge."

Lavi had never seen Allen move that quickly before.

**pqpq**

Bookman was no where to be found.

While Allen showered, Lavi went out into the living room to search for his grandfather, only to find that the bed was neat and his grandfather's suitcase was still there. Finding it odd that Bookman would have left so early, Lavi resolved to call him, but only after he prepared some coffee. However, when the water was boiling and the aroma of delicious java began to fill the suite, Lavi found a note on the table addressed to him. Setting down his cell phone in mid-dial, Lavi picked up the nice piece of hotel stationary and read:

_To my brat grandson,_

_Because of the last minute arrangements, several members of the Board will not be arriving until later tonight. Therefore, the interview has been moved to this evening at 8p.m. I presume you have the brains enough to be able to find the Historical Society's building after previous visits. If you cannot, do not bother to call me, as I don't have time for insufferable questions. _

_S. Bookman._

_P.S. Attached to the back of this note is a Visa credit card worth $2500. Be sure while you're out today, to find something suitable for the two of you to wear this evening. I can't have my grandson looking like more of an embarrassment than he already is._

_SB._

"I love you too, gramps," Lavi grumbled, pulling off the card taped to the back of the letter. Shaking his head, he poured himself some coffee and devoured it practically in two sips. He was just considering having another cup when Allen stepped out of the bedroom, still looking sleepy, but a bit more color to him than he had the previous evening.

"Food?" he asked, attempting to stifle a yawn. Lavi smiled and grabbed their room key.

"Let's go."

**pqpq**

Breakfast at the Plaza wasn't something to be reckoned with. It was absolutely amazing, with some of the best scrambled eggs and French Toast Lavi had ever had. Even Allen ate a lot, or at least a lot more than he had been eating, which was something the redhead was glad to see.

"So, we don't have to be there until 8 tonight," Lavi informed him, after explaining the situation to Allen in detail. The silver-haired boy swallowed his bacon, looking a bit apprehensive, but a tad bit hopeful.

"And then after this we can go home?" he asked. Lavi wasn't sure when Allen had considered his apartment "home" but he wasn't going to argue with it, as that comfort and familiarity with him and his flat made him quite happy.

"Yeah," Lavi said, hoping the Board wouldn't make a liar out of him. He smiled, pushing his uneasiness away. "Then we can go home."

**pqpq**

They spent the rest of the day in the city, where Allen was amazed by the tallest buildings he had probably ever seen. Then there was the traffic, the people, and the food. Lavi couldn't let Allen leave New York without trying some of the best pizza ever created by the hand of man. Together, they sat on the steps of the New York Public Library and ate from their paper plates, licking garlic off their fingers as they huddled for warmth on that clear, November day.

While on their tour of the city, Lavi brought Allen to Central Park, where they walked until midday and held hands the entire time. Although there wasn't much in the way of scenery because of the month, it was still quite beautiful. From there, they went through Rockefeller Center, taking a right to end up past the Rainbow Room and then a street or two over where they could see St. Patrick's Cathedral.

"It's one of the most beautiful churches in America," Lavi informed Allen, taking him by the hand as they entered into the gorgeous sanctuary. High, vaulted ceilings were dimly lit by overhanging lamps, but most were illuminated through the natural light that spilled in through the most ornate stained glass this side of the Atlantic. Together, they walked quietly through the pews to visit each altar, Allen's fingers clutching onto his as they viewed the saints in their miniature temples. After they had walked the entire cathedral, on the way out Allen lit a candle and prayed silently. Not religious in any right, Lavi stepped back to give him his space, wondering what Allen could be so ardently praying for.

"Thanks for waiting," Allen said, when he was through, looking a bit embarrassed to have made Lavi wait.

"No problem," Lavi replied, checking his watch. "We should probably do some shopping now."

"Shopping?" Allen repeated, taking hold of his hand when they walked out into the busy streets once again.

"Yeah. We have to get you something to wear," Lavi said.

"And you, too," Allen added. Lavi laughed, stopping as they waited to cross with other pedestrians.

"Are you making fun of my clothes?" Lavi asked, looking down at his semi-casual look.

"No," Allen said, smiling slightly as he reached forward to straighten Lavi's collar. "I like this color on you, actually. It brings out your eyes." Like he was some grade-school girl, Lavi blushed at the compliment and Allen uncomfortably brought his hands from the redhead's shoulders while turning his gaze elsewhere.

"Erm, thanks," Lavi said quickly.

"Y-yeah, you're welcome," said Allen, just as nervously. They were silent for a few moments, letting the sound of traffic and people speaking on their cell phones fill in the quiet as they waited for the crossing light to turn. Before that happened, Lavi laughed quietly and Allen did too, the two of them realizing how ridiculous they had been acting around each other. Breath rising up before them in the cold afternoon, they continued to chuckle to themselves as they crossed the street, numbed fingertips instinctually reaching towards each other like opposite ends of magnets; drawn together by universal pull that Lavi could neither explain nor comprehend.

All he knew was that it was good.

**pqpq**

After he and Allen had toured around the city, it was time to get down to business. Lavi found a trendy sort of place where he and Allen could be outfitted appropriately for later that evening. The redhead couldn't help but notice how nice Allen looked in a crisp white shirt, fitted vest, and simple black pants. There was something about the outfit that seemed to give Allen a confidence, a radiance, if you will, of presence. Lavi did not know how new clothes could do that, but he was perfectly content to praise Allen on his choice and hand over the credit card at the front desk. The check-out clerk was a young girl, perhaps still an undergrad in college, who did not try to hide the way her eyes roamed over Allen. The silver-haired boy was oblivious, thankfully, but it made Lavi sniff a bit in jealousy as he signed for their purchase. Not since the first day he and Allen met had Lavi felt that overwhelming being inside him whisper: _mine_. He managed to give the clerk a smile when she handed the card back, ignoring the rising feeling within him as he and Allen walked out into the cold afternoon.

"Where do you want to eat? We look appropriate for pretty much anything now," Lavi said. Allen didn't answer, waving the question off with a nonchalant shrug. In the end, Lavi brought them to a quiet looking upper-scale restaurant called La Scala. The hostess seemed to approve of Allen's clothes, except for the leather jacket that the smaller boy had been borrowing from Lavi for the duration of his stay. But when her gaze turned to him, Lavi realized that, in comparison, he looked rather sad in his green shirt and newly purchased khaki slacks. She didn't seem to like the rings in his ears either, but at least it was a quiet dislike and they were seated in a more private corner of the restaurant. Menus were provided and then they were left alone.

When Lavi opened his menu, he realized the mistake he'd made. Everything was very French, with foreign names he wasn't familiar with. Growing up with Bookman had taught him every aspect of almost every Asiatic language, even Middle Eastern, but not European. He couldn't even order a hot dog in Spanish if he tried. Across from him, Allen perused the menu without any outward sign of distress and the redhead tried not to think about the ring that teased him so heartlessly from Allen's finger.

"I can't read this," Allen said finally, setting the menu down.

"Me neither," said Lavi, smiling a little. Allen returned it somewhat nervously. For once in his life, Lavi wished he could dive right into someone's mind to know what they were thinking. Allen was such an enigma that Lavi couldn't even begin to figure him out, and he so desperately wanted to.

"To be honest…I'm too nervous to eat," Allen said.

"You have to eat something," Lavi replied. "They're going to have us there all night." Allen nodded and picked up the menu again, making a face as he read the descriptions. "Do you want to go somewhere different?" Allen looked up, his expression rather hopeful, but also guarded.

"Didn't you want to eat here, though?" he asked.

"Well, it was just to say I did," Lavi replied with a shrug. "I know a better place, c'mon."

**pqpq**

"I've never eaten this kind of food before," Allen said, as Middle Eastern dishes were placed before them. Lavi had brought Allen to his favorite restaurant in New York. It was a hole-in-the-wall place no one ever heard of, where you had to sit on cushioned pillows and eat at low-lying tables during your meal. Salaam had that sort of authentic quality that Lavi hadn't experienced since he'd last been abroad with his grandfather.

"It's really good," Lavi said, nudging a dish of chicken curry at him. "Don't be afraid. Try some."

"What does it taste like?" Allen asked, seeming a bit leery of the orange sauce atop Jasmine rice before him.

"Like delicious," Lavi replied, grinning when Allen rolled his eyes. "Try some." Allen picked up his fork and did so, very slowly, and then chewed with a surprised look on his face.

"It's not too spicy," he said.

"No," Lavi replied, and then was able to get the boy-from-the-past to try a number of other dishes, such as Tikka, Tandoori, and Masala. After dinner, he insisted that Allen try Baklava and some Indian hot cocoa. The Baklava was fresh and flaky, tasting like it was straight from the Greek Isles and the hot cocoa was spun three times around on a golden tray before served.

"Why did they do that?" Allen asked.

"For good luck," Lavi replied, taking a sip of the rich liquid. "It's something we could always use."

"Yeah…" Allen said, looking thoughtful over the rim of his cup. Lavi scooted closer to him and put his arm around Allen's shoulders.

"Don't be so down. It'll be fine, you'll see," he said, holding his position when Allen leaned against him, as if seeking shelter from a stormy sea he wasn't sure he could stay afloat in.

"What if it isn't, Lavi? What if they take me away?" Allen asked, sounding almost close to tears.

"Don't worry," Lavi said, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "It'll all be fine."

"But what if it _isn't_?" Allen insisted. "You're the only one…I feel safe with, Lavi. I don't…I don't want to be apart from you." As much as it warmed Lavi's heart to hear Allen say that, the darker part of him wondered why it was so. Was it because of the closeness Lavi and Rabi seemed to share? Or was it because Allen really, truly began to feel something deeper for Lavi than just passing affection?

"Don't worry," Lavi said again, forcing a comforting smile. "Everything will work out fine."

He hoped.

**pqpq**

When dinner was over, it was nearly 7:30 in the evening. Dark clouds had already set in with night and they were grumbling overhead.

"Storm's coming…" Lavi murmured, taking hold of Allen's hand to lead him through the crowds bustling along the lit sidewalks. When it started to snow, Lavi figured walking wasn't that great of an idea. He didn't want either of them to get colds, so he hailed a taxi and the two of them got inside, curling around the heater as if it were a lifeline. Traffic was rather heavy for that time of evening and the cab got them to the Historical Society's expensive-looking building at 8:07.

"Are we late?" Allen asked, as Lavi helped him out of the taxi.

"Yeah," Lavi said, pulling him along towards the ten-storied construct in front of them, hurrying through the snow that was coming down harder now. The National Historical Society had two very official buildings in the United States. The actual branch for the U.S. exclusively resided in Washington D.C., but the international branch was right in the heart of New York City. Even though the place should have closed hours ago, the lights were on inside and the door was open when Lavi pulled on the handle. The inside was warm, tastefully decorated, and…empty.

"Where is everyone?" Allen asked, brushing some snow off the sleeves of his jacket.

"Probably in the conference room up on the top floor…" Lavi said, not seeing any guard to give them instruction.

"Should we…go…?" Allen asked, looking at the elevators.

"You should have gone ten minutes ago," said a voice directly in front of them. Although it was too dark down that hallway behind the main desk, Lavi immediately knew who it was. It was a voice that Lavi knew without even having to wonder, without having to think or remember anything. It was the voice of his youth, the voice of his disdain, and the voice of his tormentor. It was the man he thankfully had not come into contact with for a good portion of his life.

"It's you," said Lavi, allowing his tone to give away exactly how he felt about the man. There was a careless chuckle as the man stepped out of the darkened hallway and into the light, revealing his unmistakable red hair. It was Bookman's "no-good son" and also Lavi's "dead-beat dad": Marian Cross.

**pqpq**

Cross just had to be in this fic. It wouldn't be a fic without him. –gropes him-

This story is almost reaching its climax. Finally, right? It'll be done by the end of the summer! Wooo!

Much love,

**Dhampir72**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note**: Thanks for all the support. I'm sorry that I haven't updated (anything) in a while, but my muse is gone and I've had a lot of other things to worry about. However, this story can't go unfinished, so here is your long anticipated update. Thanks to: Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Nusku, Chocolate and caramel, Lhitium, Tana Walker, Tsumi no Curse, Azakura, NellaXIval, I'm Defective, Sungoddess64, Aion Laven Walker, MitarashiiDango, darkangelwings90, shushan, Chiaki Saruwatari, fotoshop-cutout, sasunarufangirl111, OyaSUMi-heart, Bwans, Naruta13, Amaya 24, SakuraKissy, Sazuka-Chan, Siry Pop, aylbro, and everyone else who has put up with my not updating in a billion years.

**pqpq**

Allen felt his jaw nearly slide off his face and onto the floor.

Before him stood the man who had made his life a living hell for as long as he could remember. He still looked the same: cocky face, unruly red hair, and that little tuft of crimson on his chin that the ladies oddly swooned over. Allen Walker never thought he would face his Master again, especially after he had gone missing back during the war, so the current encounter left him not only speechless, but also completely clueless as to how this evening could end.

"Is that any way to speak to your father?" Kross asked, directing a gaze at Lavi that would make most akuma flee in terror. If possible, Allen believed that he couldn't become anymore confused with the situation. Kross was Lavi's _father_? As in, he _sired_ Lavi so that they were _related_? Allen's head was spinning so badly and here he had just arrived. But already everything was information overload and he could not even dredge up a surprised inquiry.

"I don't share a name with you," Lavi replied.

"Thank God, too. Good thing I legally changed mine a long time ago," said Kross. "Wouldn't want to be associated with someone like you. Heaven help it if anyone knew I had such an accident."

"You're not my father," Lavi answered, coldness creeping into his voice like the harshest winter. "You don't give a damn about me. Never have and never will." Kross just laughed, that deep, familiar rumble that would always ensure something bad was going to happen. It set Allen's skin crawling at the memories of some of the punishments he'd received during his training.

"Touché," the older redhead said, pulling a golden case from his suit pocket. "Giving a shit about you or not isn't the reason I'm here." As Marion pulled a cigarette from its elegant container, Allen felt dark eyes settle upon him pointedly. The gaze was enough to make Allen fidget uncomfortably. When his Master had looked at him, Allen had experienced only anger for his past treatment, but with that came a bit of begrudged reverence for Kross's abilities on the battlefield. However, when this man looked at him, Allen felt only unease and apprehension. As much as he had disliked Marion, Allen had at least trusted him. "Speaking of which, are you going to be rude and not formally introduce us?" Those dark eyes had never left Allen's face, not even to address Lavi, who stood so stiffly beside him.

"You already know who he is," Lavi replied.

"But he does not know me," Marion said, his eyes narrowing a bit. "Or _does_ he?" Allen's spine felt very cold under Kross's gaze. Did he know something that Allen didn't?

"Allen," said Lavi, rather sharply. Allen started, but knew that the anger wasn't directed at him, especially when he noticed that the redhead's jaw was tensed and his eyes had never left the other man's face. "This is Marian Cross. He is the Executive Coordinator and Mediator for the International Historical Society."

"Pleasure," Allen said with forced civility.

"The pleasure is all mine, Allen Walker," Cross said, lighting his cigarette. "Now, shall we go upstairs?"

"Fine," Lavi replied, his stiffness not leaving even when Marian turned his back and walked towards the elevators, pressing a button to call down a lift to their floor. Allen pressed his palm gently against Lavi's shoulder, as if to comfort him, but the redhead did not relax in the slightest. His tension only grew worse in the elevator, where Lavi put himself between Allen and Cross. It had to be the most uncomfortable silence Allen had ever experienced, leaving him a panicked, nervous wreck by the time they reached the top floor. Even though the place was done up very nicely in rich rosewood and comforting mauves, Allen's trepidation only worsened at the sight of Bookman standing there.

He didn't look pleased.

"You're late," he said, glaring at Lavi.

"There was traffic," Lavi replied, with barely restrained anger. Bookman then said something to Lavi in a foreign language that made his color heighten, but the redhead remained silent after that. Marian continued to smoke with a familiar nonchalance, even when Bookman pointed out that there was no smoking allowed in the office.

"Tell the Board they can bite my ass," Cross replied.

"You're certainly a disgrace," Bookman said, but did not pursue the argument further. He glared at Lavi and pointed at the nearest chair, where the redhead obediently sat down without a word. "Now, Allen. Everyone has been eagerly waiting your arrival. Come with me, if you please." Allen stood rooted to the spot, his instincts telling him to run as fast as possible from the room. But he couldn't make to run away or move forward towards where Bookman stood. The way Lavi wouldn't meet his eyes was not helping.

"I…can't Lavi come, too?" Allen asked.

"No," Bookman replied, without any room for arguments. "Not for this interview, at least."

"Why?' Allen asked, clenching his fists, trying to buy time. He did not want to be alone with Bookman, by himself in a room where faceless men would attack him with questions. At least, if Lavi was there, he would feel safe. Lavi always made him feel safe.

"Because he is not a member of the society yet," Bookman answered. Lavi's ears were as red as his hair, either with embarrassment or anger, Allen was unsure. "Therefore, he is not privileged enough to enter. Now, come along." Cross was behind him, his imposing presence driving Allen forward without having the older man touch him. But when the silver-haired boy stepped before Lavi's chair, he stopped and looked at him. Green eyes glanced up at him apologetically, but told him silently to go along. They were trying to assure Allen that it would all be fine, despite the weight of Cross's hand on his shoulder pushing him forward. The connection was broken and Allen was forced into the dark.

**pqpq**

There were many members of the Board, Allen came to find out.

He was brought into a dimly lit room that was very large, just like the room that Leverrier had used when he called meetings with the generals and supervisors. Like the room Leverrier reserved specially for their "discussions" about the Fourteenth. The memories unsettled him more than the actual reality, where faces obscured by shadow observed him behind their many different colored flags. Although it had been quiet to begin with, suddenly, there was a tumult of whispers and talking. To make things even worse, Allen was placed in a single chair before all of them and he tried not to panic upon feeling—but not seeing—their gazes coming from all sides. Cross moved away from him and took a seat close to the front, as did Bookman, and then, everything became uncomfortably quiet.

"Allen Walker," said one of the men, who was cast into so much shadow that Allen could not see his face. "The Destroyer of Time. The Fourteenth. Exorcist of the Black Order, inducted in the year 1894. Died in the year 1899. Correct?"

"Y-Yes," Allen stammered nervously, catching the faint clicking of a typewriter. Someone was recording this. It only served to feed his unease rather than soothe it. For the next half-hour, he was assaulted with questions. Some were easy to answer: about his life before the Order with Mana then his life during the war with his comrades. Some, however, were harder: Mana's death, his suspected heresy, his lover's denouncement of the Bookman title, the final battle, the death of…They pressed him without giving him a chance to mourn properly, without a chance to cry, and when they finally fell into excited whispers amongst themselves, Allen fiddled with the silver ring, calling upon it for courage. He wanted to go home and return to that safe place with Lavi. He didn't want this.

But they weren't through yet.

They wanted hard evidence of his identity. A man who claimed to be a doctor approached the chair and prodded at Allen's scar with cold fingers. He measured it with a metal instrument, described every ugly part of the gouge in Allen's skin aloud for the room to hear. The man on the typing machine did not miss a beat, recording without any regard to Allen's discomfort. Bookman did not come forward to stop it and neither did Cross. Lavi would have, making Allen wish the redhead was in that room with him then. Finally, when it seemed like it was almost over, the invasion of privacy continued. As if so rudely poking at his old injury wasn't terrible enough, they wanted to see his arm as well.

"No," Allen said, his voice ringing clear in the room.

"What?" was the chorus of questions that followed, in every language imaginable.

"You will do it," Bookman said.

"I won't," Allen replied, his chin held high. This wasn't the Bookman he knew, just like it wasn't the Kross he remembered. Although Bookman had never been outright kind to him, Allen had fought alongside the man for years and knew that the older Exorcist was always looking out for him on the battlefield. Kross had been of the same stuff: an insolent asshole, debt-leaver, and womanizer, but the one who never let Allen die. For that, he had always been grateful. But now, these people who wore their faces had somehow lost those souls he had trusted long ago. Just that realization made Allen feel like there was no air.

"You will," Bookman said. There was an edge to his voice that Allen had never heard before. It was almost as if Bookman was trying to tell him something, but wasn't doing a good job of it. What were his dark eyes trying to convey?

"No," Allen answered, shaking his head. No matter what would happen, he did not want to be the puppet of the organization. He did not want to be treated like some sort of artifact that they could handle and examine at will.

"You've…made your choice, then," Bookman said, eyes flickering downwards for a moment. Disappointment, that much Allen knew. But when the old man turned and walked towards the door, Allen had no idea what his defiance meant. Moments later, Bookman returned. Behind him, Lavi walked with unsure steps, his vision rendered useless due to the black blindfold he wore.

"Lavi!" Allen said, eyes wide.

"Allen?" Lavi asked, sounding concerned.

"Why are you blindfolded?" Allen asked, looking accusingly at Bookman.

"He does not have the privilege to face the Board, Mr. Walker. I explained this earlier," Bookman answered coldly.

"Allen…did they hurt you?" asked Lavi, who was helplessly standing there without sight to guide him. The Board bristled at his accusation, whispering amongst themselves with hostility.

"Idiot," said Cross, standing from his own seat. He moved into the light that seemed to only be around Allen's seat. His stride was purposeful and intimidating. Allen had no idea what was going on, but he didn't like it. "Why would we want to risk damaging the most important historical discovery of this century?" Allen felt offended to be referred to as such an object; the frown pulling at Lavi's lips told him that his redheaded companion felt the same way. Bookman ignored the two men, placing himself in front of Allen again.

"Once more, Allen Walker. Do as we say," Bookman said.

"Tell them to stick it where the sun don't shine, Allen," Lavi offered from behind him. He let out a pained breath when Cross grabbed his upper arm and pulled him closer to the chair where Allen sat. Although Lavi's advice was appealing, Allen wasn't about to be so rude.

"I'm disinclined, Mr. Bookman, to do so," Allen replied. "Perhaps at a later date." The Board did not like that. That much was certain from their dissatisfied whispers.

"Perhaps we should wait," said one voice from the shadows. Allen could not see his face, but the accent was heavily Asian. Some murmurs rose up among the men in disagreement.

"Why?" asked another.

"It might be in our best interest," said a third.

"It might be in _his_ best interest as well," replied the first.

"This is true," said a fourth. "This boy may have historical knowledge as well as value, but we will be hindered from understanding if he refuses us due to our hastiness."

"I will not wait," said the second voice. He sounded mean; much like Leverrier had been when Allen was questioned after the Ark incident. And if Allen was given a guess, he would say that it was the same man who had been so cruel in his questioning of how his lover had died on the battlefield. He was the one who made Allen describe every detail: watching as Rabi's heart was ripped from his very chest before his eyes. Such a sickening man for making him relive all of that.

"Let us call a vote," proposed the first, and they did. Allen's stomach dropped when those fighting for his benefit were in the minority.

"Carry on," said the second voice, giving permission to continue. Bookman turned back to him.

"Walker. Remove your shirt," Bookman told him. Allen steadfastly refused, his gloved fingers not even reaching for the buttons upon his vest. They engaged in staring for a few long moments, before Bookman dropped his gaze. "Then you leave us no choice." His head inclined towards Cross, who grinned. The light and shadows mixed on his face to cast him as an almost demonic figure. "Cross. You may begin." Bookman then walked back towards his seat and sat down without another word.

"We didn't want to play this game," Cross said, lighting another cigarette. He put the case back into his coat pocket casually, taking a drag. Blowing out smoke, Cross finally fit the picture of a demon. "But you've got to do what you've got to do. If you don't show us that left arm of yours—" Cross paused, holding his cigarette between his lips, using his free hands to force Lavi to his knees. Before Allen or Lavi could ask what he was going to do, the older redhead fluidly produced a gun from a hidden location inside of his coat. He placed the barrel of the gun against Lavi's temple. "—then I've been given the order to kill him."

"He's bluffing, Allen," Lavi said, his voice wavering only slightly with fear.

"Am I?" Cross asked, pulling the safety off.

"This is going too far!" said one of the kind voices from before. Slightly German, maybe, but Allen wasn't sure. He wasn't too concerned with where the man was from at the moment either, preoccupied with the gun pressed so imposingly against Lavi's head. With one pull of the trigger, Cross could end Lavi's life.

"Stop," Allen told Cross, glaring hard at the man.

"Or what?" asked the long-haired man. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Stop this!" commanded another voice from the dark. It was the first voice who had come to Allen's aid. "Sid, that's your grandson!" Bookman was silent. So quiet and so in shadow that Allen couldn't see him. "Marian! That's your son. Your own flesh and blood!"

"Stay out of this, Bak," commanded Cross. Allen's heart felt considerably lighter. Could it be Bak-Chang, from Asia Branch, who had been so kind to him all those years ago…? Cross's attention moved from Allen to the man in question. "You want answers just as much as the rest of us."

"I'm not ready to kill for it, Marian," said Bak. Something slammed down on the table: his fist. "_Ai ya_! That's my student you have at gunpoint! He's not allowed to die until he submits his final dissertation" There was an uncomfortable shifting amongst the Board at this revelation of identity. No one else spoke up and Cross did not make to pull the trigger, leaving Allen taunt with anticipation.

"Thanks, _sensei_, for being so helpful in all of this," Lavi murmured.

"I'm trying to save your life, ungrateful brat!" Bak shouted. "And that paperwork better be on my desk before Christmas or else I'm going to kill you myself!" Marian puffed out another cloud or two of smoke before he twirled the pistol around his finger like a toy.

"I was just shitting you," Cross said. "Fucker wasn't even loaded."

"You're an asshole," Bak said, but Allen could hear him sitting down with a sigh of relief. And he wasn't the only one. Allen felt the adrenaline fade from his blood now that Lavi was safe. Or at least safer than he had been.

"May we continue?" asked a distinctively feminine voice.

"Yes, please," said the cruel tenor from earlier.

"Will you, Mr. Walker, now agree to let us examine your Innocence?" asked Bookman, cold with formality. He swallowed a lump in his throat, knowing that he did not want to be touched again, but also not wishing for Lavi to get hurt at the same time. He must have taken too long to respond, because there was an aggravated sigh from his left. Cross had finished his cigarette and he dropped it onto the ground to squash it beneath his foot. Then he took the gun and hit Lavi on the back of the head with a resounding _crack_! The redhead let out a painful gasp, falling forward on to the floor.

"Lavi!" Allen cried out, wanting nothing more than to hurt the man who had done such a thing. Lavi groaned from the carpet, but did not rise at Allen's voice. Cross merely grinned.

"It may not be loaded, but it's still a weapon, you know," he said, waving the gun in his hand with a poor attempt at humor. "Take off your shirt or I'll hit him again." Allen quickly stood and complied, his fingers fumbling at the buttons in his haste. Although he felt completely exposed without anything covering his upper body, Allen was willing to endure to keep Lavi from being abused so terribly.

"Curious," muttered the doctor, as he poked and pinched the rough flesh. He used tools instead of his hands to examine the arm, making Allen feel as if he wasn't human at all; merely some lab rat to play with. It was mostly uncomfortable, but it became more so when the doctor moved towards his fingers. The most painful sensation was when he attempted to use one of the metal instruments to peel back some of the skin to get a better look at the green cross imbedded on the back of Allen's left hand. When that happened, Allen wrenched his hand away, his entire arm stinging. "Can you invoke it?" Allen looked down and away, shaking his head.

"I've tried. It hasn't worked since…since Lavi woke me up…" Allen answered. Excited whispers rose up while the doctor dictated to the typist all of the deformities of the appendage. Allen allowed it, eyes hot, but focused on Lavi so that he wouldn't forget why he was doing this. He needed to protect him. When the doctor was through, he moved back into the shadows. Cross followed, leaving Lavi on the floor, unmoving. Quickly, Allen dressed and went to him, not caring what the Board thought, but also not daring enough to remove the blindfold in front of those staring eyes. Instead, he gently parted Lavi's hair to inspect the damage. There was no blood, which he was glad for, but Allen knew that there would be a knot there the size of his fist by morning.

"Are you okay?" Allen asked, shaking Lavi again in an attempt to rouse him. His voice was as soft as possible, but Allen had a feeling everyone could hear him, which made him uncomfortable. "Lavi?" The boy on the floor groaned again, his hand moving up to touch his head.

"Allen…?" he asked, sounding strangely lucid despite the events that had resulted in his collapse to the floor. "Are you…okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Allen answered, putting his hand on Lavi's shoulder. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah, but…I feel like I just got run over by Komuilin…" he muttered, pushing himself up shakily. Allen could only stare, confused, as Lavi sat straight, rubbing at the bump on his head while biting the corner of his lip. It was Rabi's habit and that alone sent his heart pounding. If the Board found out about…everything, what would happen to Lavi?

"What?" Allen asked, his throat suddenly dry.

"I said I feel like I just got run over by a truck," Lavi said, his voice at a more normal volume. He was no longer biting at his lip, allowing Allen to relax slightly. Rabi had flitted into consciousness for only that brief moment, just to make sure Allen hadn't been hurt. That warmed the silver-haired boy inside. He didn't know why and he didn't know how, but Rabi was still with him.

"I'll run you over with a truck," offered Marian. He was just a glowing point of ash in the dark.

"God, you're such a dick," Lavi murmured, wincing when he prodded his injury too harshly. Allen put a hand on his arm to stop him from aggravating it too much. His arm stilled at the touch.

"May we end this now that we've successful tormented both parties?" Bak asked, sounding as if he would very much like to hit Cross with something hard and blunt.

"We're not done yet," said the woman. "Although we've acquired the information we needed for our records, we still must understand how a statue came to life of its own accord." Her bossy tone reminded Allen of Rene, one of the branch heads who had made it her mission to stir things up in the Order. Komui had detested her as much as Leverrier, especially after the half-human, half-akuma fiasco. Allen could only hope that she wasn't quite as ruthless. "That is where we must question Mr. Bookman."

"Well, brat," Cross said unkindly. "Enlighten us."

"Thanks for giving me a concussion before questioning me," Lavi replied to him, sneering with uncharacteristic venom. "It's truly an effective means of interrogation."

"Should I give you a matching welt on the other side of your head to balance it out?" Cross asked, his chair scraping backwards.

"Marian," warned Bookman, finally speaking up. Allen heard the fiery man sitting down with a disappointed huff. There was a terse silence before Bookman added: "Well?"

"I just touched him," Lavi answered. "I went to the museum and…for some reason I just…I couldn't help myself from touching him." Allen flushed, looking at Lavi. He never knew that the redhead had been compelled to do so, as he had never asked the reason for his sudden awakening. Was it Rabi who had pushed his hand, urged him closer? "I…" Lavi tilted his head slightly in Allen's general direction. "You just looked so sad…" Before Allen could think about what he was doing, he had his hands over Lavi's. They were ungloved, but Lavi did not flinch away at their different textures.

"And then what happened?" asked the woman.

"I'm…not really sure. There was a loud sound and then…Allen wasn't stone anymore," Lavi replied. The typist was going crazy trying to record everything. It was the only sound in the room.

"So, from there you took it upon yourself to steal him from the museum," she said, not asked. "Quite impulsive of you."

"I didn't know what else to do," Lavi argued. "Allen was bleeding and the last thing I needed was to be arrested. _Sensei_ already knows how late I am on my research anyway. Jail time would have just added to that _and_ been messy for gramp—Sid too." Allen heard a soft caress of hair against someone's shoulders: nodding from Bak's general area. "So, I brought him back to my place and patched him up. I'm surprised…no one at the museum followed, actually."

"The video recording devices malfunctioned during the ten minutes you awoke Mr. Walker and escaped with him," provided a new voice, somewhere in the back. This, like all the others, was strangely familiar, but Allen shrugged it off. He had too many things to worry about besides trying to play the name-that-person game.

"What happened to the rest of the statue?" Allen asked. He felt everyone's eyes shift from Lavi to him and he looked down, nervously tugging at the ring on his finger.

"It was transported back to Washington D.C., where it will remain in our storage facility until a forgery can be created," answered the female. "Once that has been completed, we will provide Mr. Lee with the story, who will broadcast its return to the public.

_Mr. Lee? _Allen thought, realizing where he knew the voice now. Lenalee's brother, who had been on the television. What had they called him, a "news anchor"? Was it possible that everyone he had once known was drawn together _again_ for this event?

"In the meantime," said the rude male from earlier. "We have much more to ask of Mr. Bookman."

"It will have to wait," Bookman interjected.

"Sid, these questions must be answered in a timely fashion," replied the man.

"It will have to wait until tomorrow, then," Bookman said.

"You heard him," Cross added. The flame of his lighter appeared for a moment before disappearing into the dark. "So shut up, Reverrier."

"Watch your step, Marian," Reverrier retorted, with just as much malice. Allen felt his head grow heavy with the thought of Leverrier being in the same room with him…again.

"Let us retire for the evening," suggested Bookman, ending their conversation. "We will meet tomorrow morning at the earliest convenience."

And they were finally free to go.

**pqpq**

Allen helped Lavi out of the room and back into the lobby again. It seemed like the Board members were taking their leave out of a back door, so Allen did not fear removing the blindfold at that time. He placed his hands over Lavi's eyes to shield them from the light. He kept them there until he figured the redhead had become adjusted enough. Two dark, slightly dazed green eyes squinted back at him. They stared at each other for a long few moments in silence.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time. Lavi looked as surprised as Allen felt.

"For what?" Allen asked.

"For all of this," Lavi replied, waving his hand at the room to explain himself without words. "I'm sorry things got so fucked up. I didn't mean for everything to end up like this." Allen smiled gently, putting his arms around Lavi's shoulders. It felt like the right thing to do. And when Lavi hugged him back, Allen _knew_ it had been the right thing to do.

"It's okay." Allen said against his shoulder. "And…I'm sorry, too."

"For what?" it was Lavi's turn to ask.

"For all of this," Allen answered, using Lavi's own words. "I got _you_ into this mess, after all." He moved his hands tenderly through Lavi's hair, making sure to not aggravate his injury. "And you got hurt on top of it. I'm really, really sorry."

"It's okay, Allen," Lavi said. It was in the same tone Rabi had used on numerous occasions with Allen, such as the time Rabi had been injured due to Allen's carelessness. Allen recognized it because it said _I don't blame you, so don't blame yourself_ loud and clear.

"Can we go home now?" Allen asked.

"Not yet," Lavi replied. "We have to come back tomorrow." They still had their arms around each other, comfortable and close. So close that Allen could feel the warmth of Lavi's skin, his breath, feel the flutter of his eyelashes against his throat. His arms meant safety, caring, protection. Maybe even love. If not love, a strong sense of attachment. And that was all Allen needed.

"Then we can go?"

"Then we can go."

**pqpq**

Oho. This was actually really fun to write!

So, I've got another chapter for you, coming soon: the final interview where everything is sort of-kind-of-almost-completely-revealed. It's going to be nothing short of epic. Tell your friends.

Love muchly,

**Dhampir72**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note**: After a long hiatus, I have returned. I decided to finish this story up, as it only has a few chapters left, before I move on to another. Thanks for being so patient! I gave you some beautiful smex to make up for the long wait.

**Thank you to my awesome reviewers**: NellaXIval, Nusku, Siry Pop, Sungoddess64, Dreaming-Of-A-Nightmare, Aion Laven Walker, MitarashiiDango, Tana Walker, knux33, xbleedinglotusx, DGMfreak5, fotoshop-cutout, Sazuka-Chan, heaven-angel-15, I'm Defective, MonElisa, aylbro, glon morski, Smori, lee-uhm, the-ice-cold-alchemist, weaverofstars, RuneNeko, setsuko teshiba, beautiful000enigma, Chiaki Saruwatari, DevilWorshipper, microwave-very-nice, mooncat011, pamellka, Saltyeyes, plasticfries, dgm-mega fan, Allen, DevilChile, and everyone else who favorited/alerted this story while I've been away.

**pqpq**

Lavi's head was pounding.

He realized this as they got into a cab and began driving through heavy traffic on the snowy streets in the direction of the Plaza. His grandfather had stayed behind after the conference, most likely to come up with other inventive ways he and Cross could torment him. The rest of the Board members were probably treating themselves to drinks for a discovery well made; perhaps only a few of them felt guilty for the events that had transpired. In the back of the cramped cab, he held the back of his head as he leaned against the seat, grumbling nonsense to himself. The large flakes left moisture droplets on the windows, causing all the lights of the city to be captured into bubbles where colors shone with radiant, copper colored tints. He closed his eyes, feeling dizzy.

"Are you okay?" Allen asked, very close to his ear. A warm hand placed itself over his, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance. After everything that had just happened, Lavi's bump on the head was nothing. He should have been trying to make Allen feel better, because that interrogation had been quite brutal. But then he remembered that if they cooperated, then they could go home. Lavi had to keep telling himself that that would be the result. When it was all said and done, they could go home and...

Then what?

He had made a promise, but what did that mean? They would return to Columbus and everything would carry on like it had been? Lavi's life had been nothing remarkable until Allen came and turned everything upside down. The past few days had been a whirlwind that left him unable to catch his balance. Calming down from that and really settling down, what would that be like? Could he and Allen even live in the same place without negative results? Recalling all of their previous rocky moments, Lavi wondered if they would be able to survive each other. But then he thought of the past twenty-four hours and let something settle in him like hope. He and Allen had been developing something, though what, he wasn't quite sure of. Lavi wondered if they could be something more than the Boy Who Came Back to Life and the Boy Who Looked Like the Dead Lover of the Boy Who Came Back to Life.

Could they ever be...?

"Hey? Lavi?" Allen said, trying to capture his fading attention that was being swallowed by his thoughts. If he opened his eyes, he probably would see all of his preoccupations being held prisoner inside the drops of condensation on the windows. But he kept them closed and instead focused on speech, nudging that part of his brain into action to answer.

"Yeah," Lavi replied, voice somewhat thick. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Allen asked, and then Lavi felt gentle fingertips against his cheek. If Allen were to press a bit harder, Lavi knew he would feel cool silver slide over his skin. It made him swallow back his guilt. If Rabi were there instead of Lavi, Rabi wouldn't have let Allen go through all of that. He hated himself at that moment for not being Rabi and wished momentarily that the boy from the past would take over him completely. After all, it wasn't like his life was something that was worth being Lavi. His mind raced as it pulled together information, like he usually did when doing research for his projects as an undergrad. When it was compiled, it read almost like a grocery list in his mind: his relatives ranged from non-existent to apathetic, his ex-boyfriend thought he had been cheating and so dumped him to get engaged to Lenalee, he wasn't welcomed into the Society despite his best efforts, he had only a few close friends to socialize with (the main two being his ex-boyfriend and ex-boyfriend's fiance), and then there was Allen... Lavi immediately presumed that he would want to be with Rabi over him any day. Looking at it in a nutshell, Lavi wanted to laugh. He had reduced his life into a simple, bulleted list of failures. His life was nothing at all.

"Yeah," Lavi said, though he once the urge to laugh passed, he wanted to cry.

"Positive?" Allen inquired, fingers dropping from Lavi's jaw to press against his chest. Lavi hoped he couldn't hear his heart hammering, or feel the way his chest was trying so desperately to keep from sobbing.

_Maybe it would be better to not be Me anymore. Everyone would be a lot happier. And I wouldn't be alone..._He thought these thoughts, leaning against the seat as they turned a corner. The droplets had probably streamed down the window by now, letting loose their colors in streams along the glass. In his head, he managed to recall a few seconds during the night where Allen had held onto him so tightly back in his apartment and whispered Rabi's name so passionately in his ear. He remembered the disappointment on Allen's face the next morning, when Rabi had been replaced by a person with his matching face.

It wasn't fair.

_Yeah. Maybe it would be better...if I never existed..._He wondered if anyone would miss him: Lavi. His grandfather would be inconvenienced for perhaps forty-eight hours and perhaps on those days when he was too cheap to call a taxi at the airport. Cross, on the other hand, would feel glad that his mongrel mistake was no longer in this world. Lenalee might feel sad and paint a picture or something, but she would use his absence artistically. Yuu would mope for a day and then get over it. Tyki would forget about him, as would the members of his department. Bak would question where his research was and that was about it. It gave him a little bit of happiness to know that Allen would miss him, even if was only in passing thought. That's all he would be, in all of their minds, because that was all he was.

A passing thought.

"Lavi?" Allen said, and Lavi had to resist telling him to call him by a different name. If he were to call him "Rabi" would his tone deviate from its current tenor? Would his touch soften with adoration? Would he kiss with fewer inhibitions? In that moment, Lavi wanted to know. He wanted to be the whore that Yuu had accused him of being. He wanted to pretend to be that boy who Allen loved with all his heart.

He wanted to be more than just a passing thought.

"Lavi?" Allen said again.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Lavi replied again, not even knowing if he had been asked another question or not. His tongue was too busy trying to figure out the knots that had formed trying to say _It's okay to call me Rabi. Please, call me Rabi? Please just tell me you love me._

His eyes felt hot beneath the lids.

"No you're not," Allen said, and his fingers ran through Lavi's hair, brushing over his own digits that were pressed firmly against the lump on his head. "I've been telling you we're here for a few minutes now..." Lavi cracked his eyes and could see the yellow light of the Plaza's pavilion beyond the wet window. A fare price blinked in an annoying manner at him: _$45.03, $45.03, $45.03,_ over and over and over again.

"Yeah," Lavi said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. He pulled away from Allen's hands that he couldn't bear and removed the card that he had been given earlier that day. Swiping it, the fare was paid and Lavi opened his door to step out into the cold night. The snow had given way to light rain. Each raindrop looked like a ruby falling as brake lights and stop lights stretched on into the night.

"Lavi?" Allen asked, reaching for his hand as they stepped inside. Lavi let him take it, though it brought no comfort to his pounding head or reeling thoughts. They only increased tenfold with each step across the marble floored lobby and every moment in the elevator with the brass rails destined for floor seventeen.

"Lavi?" Allen tried again, and was suddenly so close that Lavi could see every detail of his eyes right down to the different shades of gray that appeared within the irises. Lavi could only look at the color and listen to the soft ding as they passed each floor. Ten, eleven, twelve...

"Rabi?" Allen said softly, breath moving across Lavi's lips. He watched as the gray sparked a lighter hue with hope, turning glassier with a quiet desperation. And yet, Lavi couldn't lie, even though he wanted to; even though he wanted to pretend like the kiss pressed against his lips was for him—for Lavi—and not for someone else. What occurred inside of him was like a memory from a distant past, when his mother had still been alive. It was a distorted reel of film that played in his mind, where _it was Christmas and the decorations were hanging, smelling like cinnamon and ringing with bells, and they put up a tree and covered it with ornaments, white and silver and blue and red and there was a box with the Christmas angel for the top of the tree resting on the chair, very close, very close, but he didn't notice and it fell to the floor before he could stop it from_ breaking. He remembered that because it had not made a loud shattering noise despite being made of glass. It was just a thump upon the floor and the sound of crystal crunching within it. The reason it was important was because that was what felt like happened. His heart had been in a box on a high shelf and that name, with that single kiss not intended for him, pushed it over the edge. And when it fell, the result was the same as that Christmas angel from so long ago. Completely crushed.

_I really do mean nothing at all... _

"Lavi?" Allen said, and his expression was filled with regret. He reached a hand towards Lavi's face and used his thumb to wipe something away. The flesh of the thumb shone in the light with wetness. Lavi hadn't even realized he was crying. "Lavi, say something."

"I..." he managed to say, voice pinched with the pain he had not been aware of showing. He wanted to say _I'm Rabi. I'm Rabi. I am. I am Rabi._ But just thinking about it froze his throat. It felt like someone took the heel of their boot and rubbed the already crushed pieces of his heart in the dirt. His body felt cold.

"You...?" Allen asked, and Lavi realized that he was waiting anxiously for his response. Luckily he was spared from having to answer when the elevator doors opened on their floor.

"I'm...going to take a shower," Lavi said, and walked out. He heard Allen's scrambling footsteps behind him as he neared their room. He was on autopilot: card key in, turn knob, enter inside, turn on lights, take off jacket and shoes, go into the bedroom, go into the bathroom, turn the water on...

"Lavi," Allen said from behind him. It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," he answered. Lavi couldn't look at him and instead focused hard on the buttons of his shirt. The tears had dried on his cheeks, leaving them red and itchy.

"What's wrong?" Allen inquired. His reflection in the mirror met Lavi's eyes, and he hastily looked down to avoid them.

"My head hurts," Lavi lied.

"Let me look at it."

"No, it's fine."

"Lavi..."

"Please, just leave it."

"Are you mad at me...?"

The way Allen asked it, Lavi couldn't help but look up at him. His expression was so damned sad that Lavi wanted to take back his callous phrase and say something in its place. But time was a cruel thing and he could not turn back what had already happened. Or redo things that had already been done.

"No," he said, because he wasn't. Lavi didn't know what he was.

"Are you lying?" Allen asked.

"No," Lavi said again. His buttons were undone, but he didn't remove his shirt. The mark on his collarbone stopped him, a reminder of what had occurred between them. Lavi's eyes grew darker as he touched the hickey. Every testament of their lovemaking, every affectionate touch to his hands, every kiss was not his. Nothing was his, except the bruises on his back and wrists and the word _whore_ ringing in his ears. He wanted badly to be Rabi, but he couldn't pretend because it just hurt too damn much.

He rubbed at his eyes stubbornly to keep from crying in frustration.

"Lavi?" Allen said, for the millionth time. Lavi wanted to snap. He wanted to pick up everything and throw it onto the ground. He wanted to break things and listen to them shatter. He wanted to crunch glass beneath his shoes. He wanted to destroy everything to see how it felt. He'd always been on the receiving end, never the giving, and once, just once, he wanted that control.

"Can you...leave? I want to shower," Lavi said, feeling his rage dissipate as he watched Allen's expression in the mirror. He added a sincere: "I'm sorry" to try to repair what had been done, but he seemed to be on a train destined for an accident, as he kept making the same mistakes over and over again.

"I'm sorry," Allen replied, eyes on the floor as he backed out of the room and left Lavi to his shower. It left him with a guilty, bitter taste in his throat. When he undressed, Lavi caught sight of himself and quickly turned away. His life had culminated into a concussion, severe bruises, and a collection of love bites, all of which he did not deserve. As he stepped under the spray and the injuries stung, he wondered if maybe he did deserve them.

He heard Yuu's words in his ears accusing him: _slut_.

Closing his eyes, Lavi let the water beat down on him, turning his body red with heat. He had calmed down, but there was still a stormy sea inside. Was there anything he could do? Could he pretend like everything was alright?

Could he be Rabi if Allen needed him to be?

_Rabi, if you're inside me somewhere, please, just..._He didn't know what to ask. What do you say to the other presence inside of you? How do you tell it that you want it to take over your body, your thoughts, and everything else about you? He clutched at the railing in the shower and thought hard about it, bringing Allen's saddened expression to his mind. _For Allen._

A warm feeling rose in his chest, but nothing else. Lavi weakly pounded his fist against the tiled shower wall, not understanding. All the times that he had wanted to be him and he had been Rabi, now he was begging to be Rabi and he could only be himself.

When he turned off the shower, he felt like a failure.

**pqpq**

After drying off, Lavi went out into the bedroom. There was a long-sleeved flannel shirt and a pair of sweats lying folded on the end of the bed for him to take. Before him, Allen sat on the window ledge in only one of Lavi's t-shirts, staring out beyond the curtains as the redhead pulled the clothes on. Tossing the towel back into the bathroom, Lavi neared Allen, his footsteps light against the plush carpet. He felt like a hunter nearing a precious creature, such as a unicorn or faerie: something that would run away or disappear the moment he got too close...And when Allen's eyes turned to him, Lavi felt the overwhelming urge to put his arms around the boy. He wanted to ask him to stay.

Because a life pretending to be Rabi wouldn't hurt as badly as living a life without Allen.

"I'm sorry," was all Lavi could get out, sitting down on the ledge across from Allen. He rested his aching head against the cool glass, looking down at the lights from cars down below. Time Square bustled with activity down the street. Across from them, the stock market flashed red figures; numbers that were irrelevant to Lavi except for the way the light moved across Allen's face. He could only watch, silent and captivated, like he was back inside one of the droplets upon the window of the taxi. He knew in that moment that he could not return to his apartment and pick up his old routine again. He couldn't read his books or watch the Discovery channel or do his laundry or drink red wine again.

Not without Allen.

"I'm sorry," Allen said, pulling his knees to his chest. Lavi's bubble of thought burst and bled out, like the condensation on the window, dripping down, down, down…

"Why?" Lavi asked quietly, swallowing as he looked at the lines on Allen's shirt, the way his silver hair fell against his shoulders. He stared at Allen's hands: red over white and thought how much he wanted to make love to the boy across from him. "Nothing is your fault. It's mine."

"You don't have to keep shouldering all the blame, Lavi," Allen said. The way it rolled off Allen's tongue so perfectly made him wonder how many times he had said it before to Rabi. A memory that did not belong to him came to mind of a _white room and pale sheets are around him and they match, match the hair and the bandages and everything except the pink lips that smile as the hand touches me and his words truly say _you don't have to keep shouldering all the blame, Rabi_ and they are carried on the warm breeze through the window to move over him like waves, his hand moving to touch his and he says:_

"But Allen, it is my fault."

"No, it's not," Allen replied and he meant it, just as he had meant it that time and every time before. He meant it.

Lavi couldn't live without that.

"Allen," Lavi said, looking out at the city again and the lights of the buildings around them, yellow and white squares down narrow streets that stretched as far as the eye could see. In front of him, Allen's reflection looked at him with a searching gaze. Lavi could feel it on his body, even when he closed his eyes. If he strained his ears enough, he could hear jazz playing from Roxy down below. "If there were any way to bring Rabi back, would you do it?"

"Yes," Allen replied, his voice quiet before they lapsed into silence.

That was all he needed to hear.

"Okay," Lavi said, preparing himself calmly. He began picking up the pieces of himself and putting them away, numbed with acceptance. With all his might, he tried to reach inside of his very soul to grasp at Rabi, who resided there, he knew for sure. But no matter how he tried, he felt nothing to grab onto.

"Lavi?" Allen asked, and Lavi heard him move closer. It was the rustle of fabric and the sweeping of silken hair against cotton. Allen smelled like the cool mountain air guiding pure water over a towering falls.

"Shh…" Lavi replied, opening his eyes to look at Allen. The gray was liquid, shining in the evening lights with concern. It wasn't for him, Lavi knew, and somehow he managed to smile. He traced his fingers over Allen's face in a slow manner, committing everything to memory. Even though he would be forgotten, he did not want to forget. In a mere few seconds of time, he wanted to touch Allen as Lavi, one last time.

"What are you—" Allen tried to ask, but Lavi silenced him with a finger against his lips. The lips he wanted to kiss, but could not.

"Don't say anything," Lavi whispered, holding that liquid silver gaze. "I'm going to disappear, I promise."

"What?" asked Allen, and Lavi watched as his forehead creased in questioning, the brow furrowing with confusion. "What do you mean, Lavi? What are you talking about?"

"Rabi is more valuable to everyone than I am. Especially to you," Lavi said, and the words came easier than he thought. The smile came even easier, despite the way he felt his chest aching with agony. "I just want to make you happy, Allen."

"Lavi…?" Allen said, so close again, like in the elevator, where Lavi could see every detail up close and feel the warmth radiating from Allen's skin. Those eyes seemed to ask _Why would you make that sacrifice?_

"I'm nothing, Allen. Nothing at all," Lavi told him, because it was true. He could only feel the vestiges of pain on his back and the pounding in his head. There in his mind were Yuu's cold eyes and Lenalee's engagement ring and the way Cross sneered when he looked at him. There were the images of his empty bed and piles of notes that had no meaning and the box in the closet of memories that he could not forget. Everything that had kept his life together, Lavi realized, meant nothing. He was just a ghost among it and nothing beyond that. Because no one could see _him_ beyond that. "Let me be something for you. Let me be Rabi."

"No, Lavi," Allen said and touched his hand. His heart contracted at the name, stopping the organ before it could bleed hope throughout the rest of his body.

"It's the only way to make you happy," Lavi replied, closing his eyes as he felt the chill creep into his bones from leaning against the glass. "It's the only way to have Rabi back."

"Lavi, that's not true," Allen said and his voice had that soft, understanding tone to it that nearly cracked his resolve.

"No one will ever compare to him in your eyes," Lavi murmured, his intonation clear. _I can never compare to him_.

"Stop it, Lavi," Allen said, his commanding tone not fooling Lavi in the slightest. He'd tapped into it: the source of Allen's own internal conflict. Since he'd been awoken, Lavi had seen that struggle in Allen's gaze to differentiate between him and Rabi. He had watched and accepted, until now. He dug at it—that tiny cavity he'd created—wanting to know, desperately wanting to know, if there was any room in Allen's heart for him.

"You know it's true," the redhead replied, unable to keep the bitterness from tingeing his voice. "You know it."

"Don't do this, Lavi," Allen said, putting both his hands on top of Lavi's. He felt the smoothness of the right and the calloused left. Both were warm, grasping on to him, as if Allen's begging eyes and hands truly were imploring him _not to do__ this_.

Lavi felt himself break.

With trembling hands, he slid beneath Allen's palms, reaching for the other boy's sleeves. He gripped onto the fabric, clenching his eyes shut as he tried to fight the overwhelming urge to cry. He wanted to mourn for the self that no one would miss.

"Please, Allen…" he begged quietly, arms shaking. "Please let me do it…"

"Why?" Allen asked, and his calm voice had raised an octave with distress. Lavi felt Allen reaching for his cheeks, wanting to force him to look up. But the redhead kept his face averted, as he didn't have the strength to meet that gray gaze again. "Lavi, why do you want to?"

"Because…" Lavi said, and struggled with the words like they were advanced calculus. He felt tears coming again and hated himself for letting them fall. "Because…"

"Why?" Allen asked. His voice became lower, calm again, but when his hands took hold of Lavi's cheeks, he could feel them trembling. The thumbs smoothed over his cheeks, brushing the tears away and Lavi felt so damned weak that he wanted to hide where no one could ever find him again. "Why, Lavi?"

"Because I just want you to love me," Lavi whispered, fingers clenching the fabric like it were the only thing keeping him there, attached to the current reality in the room on the seventeenth floor of the Plaza Hotel in New York City.

"Lavi…" Allen said, the name making Lavi want to cry even harder.

"Please, call me Rabi," he begged. The words _desperate whore_ ran though his mind like a mantra, but he could not stop the neediness that coursed through his veins like a poison. He just needed Allen to say it one more time. He just needed to hear him say _Rabi _one more time and then he felt like he could disappear without another thought.

"No, Lavi," Allen replied, and his voice was stern. "Look at me."

"Please, just say it," Lavi wept, but could not open his eyes to look at Allen. He couldn't bear to see him looking again. Not when he was like this.

"No, Lavi. I'm not going to do that," Allen told him, and his tone was steadfast. Lavi let out a wry laugh, feeling the hot tears soaking through in small circles on his sweats. He could only think of the angel that had been crushed in the box that had fallen from the chair in his memory. It was that feeling of trepidation that one felt after such an accident. It was something that no one wanted to clean up because it was so painful to see what had been done. What had been _ruined_.

"Fuck, I'm begging and even then...no one..." Lavi felt like he was choking, unable to complete the thought that screamed over and over in his throbbing head. _I'm begging and even then, no one wants me_.

Pathetic.

"Lavi..." It was that understanding, calming tone again; the same that doctors used on unruly, childish patients. Lavi felt the pain increase at that sound, even more so when Allen's hands dropped from his face. His cheeks felt cold despite the heated trails that remained upon them where his tears continued to fall. "Please look at me?" Allen asked, but Lavi wouldn't look up, not even when the other boy put his arms around his shoulders and embraced him. He thought of the statue back in the museum and recalled the way Allen's marble form had solidified holding Rabi against his chest, like he was pressed there now. He wanted so desperately to hear Allen's heartbeat, but he couldn't hear it over the pounding in his eardrums.

He suddenly felt very, very stupid.

"No, please, don't touch me. Just don't touch me and don't look at me," Lavi said, trying to pull away. Allen held him firmly and he was unable to escape. "Please, just…just don't. I can't stand it…I just can't fucking stand it…"

"Lavi, it's okay," Allen said, trying to soothe him.

"Call me Rabi," Lavi begged in a ragged, hoarse whisper.

"No. Your name is Lavi," Allen told him, as if it was as easy as that.

"Rabi," Lavi insisted.

"Lavi," Allen retorted.

"Stop," said Lavi, and tried to push Allen away. But Allen wouldn't let him go, clutching him close to his chest.

"Why?" Allen asked, and his tone wa so sad that Lavi had to tell him.

"Because…you'll just break my heart pretending like you love me," Lavi said, still unable to escape the hold Allen had on him. His tears had stopped, thankfully, but it was replaced by a heaviness that Lavi could only justify from his words. Allen would always be searching for Rabi behind his eyes. That's who he would love, not Lavi.

Never, ever Lavi.

"Lavi, I do love you," Allen said. Lavi, for a mere second, believed him. He wanted to so badly and imagined in that pocket of time that every touch and smile and kiss had been for _him_: for Lavi. But then, that hope withered and died. It died like Rabi had died over one hundred years ago.

"No," Lavi replied quietly, shaking his head against Allen. "You love Rabi."

"I love Lavi, too," Allen said, and pulled back, holding Lavi's face in his hands. When Lavi met his eyes, finally met them, he saw the purest sincerity there deep within the gray, swirling silver. "Can't I love both?"

"Will you…ever see 'me'?" Lavi asked, holding onto Allen's hands. If he clung to them hard enough, he wondered if there would ever be a chance. Would there be room in someone's heart for him? For Lavi?

"Of course," Allen answered. It looked like he was the one trying not to cry. "I'm sorry…I know it seems like I've not been seeing you. But you and Rabi are different. For all your likenesses, you are different people. I see that now…"

With those words, Lavi suddenly felt very selfish. He was crying over something stupid, wanting Allen to tell him that he loved him when he barely knew him. The boy across from him had gone through so much in the past few days: he was trying to deal with being in a new time, with the knowledge that his lover had been killed along with the rest of his friends. In retrospect, Lavi was a pathetic, needy individual. Allen hadn't asked for any of those hardships and Lavi was just throwing more on his plate. His intentions had been to make Allen happy, but now, Lavi was worried that he'd just made him feel more conflicted than ever.

"I'm sorry," Lavi said, and hastily pulled away, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. His own pain could continue. He just didn't want to see Allen sad. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all of that…"

"Lavi," Allen said, his hands resting on Lavi's arms, pulling them down so that they were looking at each other once again. His cheeks burned with shame when Allen didn't say anything for a moment, holding his gaze in a long, intense stare.

"I'm sorry. Please forget about everything…" .

"I can't forget," Allen said. "You wanted me to be happy."

"I do," Lavi answered.

"Even if it meant not being you," Allen said, and the redhead swallowed before nodding.

"Yeah."

Allen looked at him seriously, moving his fingers along Lavi's arms, up over the places where he'd bruised; skirting over the love bites that still ached. The mismatched palms brushed along his neck as they moved to cup his face gently.

"You wanted to give up everything for me. You wanted to give up yourself, Lavi," Allen said and smiled. His eyes looked wet in the lights from Time Square. A tear fell and it shimmered, like all the illumination that the droplets on the window had captured, trailing down his face to leave beautiful slants of rainbow colored light in their wake. "How could I ever forget that?"

"Allen…?" Lavi murmured, not knowing what to do. He'd made Allen cry. That was the one thing he hadn't wanted to do in the first place.

"There was Rabi," Allen said, closing his eyes. More tears gathered in the lashes before dripping down, falling onto Allen's bare knees. "And I miss Rabi. I loved him with all my heart. He can't ever be replaced and I don't want him to be." When Allen opened his eyes again, they were like glass, reflecting everything so that Lavi once again found himself captivated by their profound depths. "And then there's you, Lavi. You're just like him, but you're so different too." Allen smiled, and it was so beautiful that Lavi's chest actually hurt. "I can't ever replace my love for Rabi, but that doesn't mean…that doesn't mean I can't ever love again."

"I…" Lavi wanted to tell Allen all kinds of things, but couldn't get any of them to come out. Allen just smiled and moved closer to him. He was still sad, Lavi knew, missing Rabi with all his heart, but the redhead also knew that there was a place for him—_Lavi_—as well. He had seen it in the multi-colored hues in Allen's tears. _I'm not worthy_ he wanted to say, but could not get any words to form against the lips that pressed softly against his.

"You wanted to make me happy, Lavi," Allen said when they parted. His legs shifted over Lavi's so that the smaller boy was sitting on his lap, arms around his neck. Behind him, Lavi could see the lights of the city pale in comparison to his glow. "And I want to be happy with you."

It was there on the marble ledge of room 1708 overlooking Manhattan that Lavi finally received what he had been looking for all along. When Allen kissed him again, he felt it inside of him: blossoming with warmth from his core and then sprawling outwards like the petals of a blooming flower. It reached every nerve ending when he touched Allen's skin, fingers sliding beneath the shirt to touch every inch of flesh he could reach. The feeling extended to every muscle when Allen took all of him in and began moving so desperately against his body. It was in the sweat and the tears that glistened in the lights of night upon their skin. That feeling burned through every part of his body like the sweetest rush of euphoria when Allen whispered _Lavi, Lavi, Lavi_ into his ear. And the sensation continued to warm him long after they had finished and lay there against one another, doing nothing but breathing against the cool glass as the weak dawn sunlight filtered in through the gray, November skies.

"Lavi…" Allen murmured sleepily against his shoulder, but did not wake. Listening, Lavi could hear each intake of breath and the light flutter of Allen's eyelashes against his neck as he dreamed. He smiled and looked out over the rooftops, enjoying the pleasant warmth against him as much as he had been filled with joy to hear his name spoken so lovingly. In this world, there was one person who had room in their heart for him. For the first time in a long time, he felt wanted. Pressing a kiss against Allen's temple, Lavi closed his eyes and let out a calming breath. He realized that, when he and Allen had joined and Allen had kissed him like he had never been kissed before. It wasn't like the last time, where Lavi's judgment had been clouded by that bitter red wine and he had tasted Allen, like sweetness against his tongue. That kiss had been for Rabi. This kiss had been for him.

What Allen said was true. They were both different: he and Rabi. Although he felt that flitting presence inside of him, Lavi was not Rabi and could never be him, no matter how hard he tried. He would never be able to take Rabi's place, just as Rabi would never be able to take his. Their souls—or was it _soul_—shared a body, and they also now shared Allen. Inside him, Lavi was surprised that Rabi was not jealous like he had first thought he would be. The feeling was not one of animosity, but of love. In Lavi's world, something had finally gone right.

And this time, he smiled when he thought about the two of them going home.

**pqpq**

Angst was necessary. Believe it.

I totally enjoyed this. I have the next two chapters planned and then the final as well, so it's sure to be an amazing ride. Hope you're all on board. Also, I'm going to be a whore and say, the **more reviews **you give me, the **faster** I'll **update**, as I'm a total feedback slut XD

Love,

**Dhampir72**


End file.
